Exigo
by General Junos
Summary: She was the heroine, so where was her happy ending? // He was the only one to survive, so he didn't expect a happy ending. - Amell/Cullen
1. Chapter 1 Lennith

**A/N: Spoilers, spoilers, spoilers.** I can't stress this enough. If you haven't played through DA:O enough to get the ending I'm using for this story, you're going to spoil QUITE a bit for yourself, especially about who the "Secret, Optional" character is. So anything and everything after this note may or may not contain spoilers. **You've been warned.**

Also, this fic contains some language some might find offensive. Oh well.

* * *

_Exigo  
_Chapter One  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Lennith Amell (F. Human Mage PC)

It had been just over a year since the archdemon was killed, and even longer since she had stepped into the Circle Tower, the place that had been her home since the start of her apprenticeship. She was not surprised that almost everyone she encountered in the Tower recognized her as the Grey Warden. What _was_ surprising was how many mages and mage-apprentices were in the Tower.

When she had last been in the Tower, she and her companions had cleared the place of all abominations, and at that time, she could count on her fingers _exactly_ how many mages and apprentices survived. Now, however, the halls were bustling with mages-in-training, young and old. It was as though Uldred had never nearly destroyed the Tower. It was just like it had been when _she_ was still an apprentice.

"Lennith!"

Lennith Amell, last Ferelden Grey Warden and hero of Ferelden, turned around to find Petra jogging towards her. The mage was only slightly older than Lennith, but since the Uldred incident, the two mages had become friends.

Stopping in the hallway she was walking down, Amell smiled and hailed her friend. "Petra. How are you?"

"Not bad. What brings you here?" the red-head asked, coming to a stop before the Warden.

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you for asking," Lennith grinned at the lack of a greeting.

"Sorry, but you can't exactly blame me for getting right to the point. You haven't been to the Tower in over a year, you haven't written or anything, and you suddenly show up out of no where. Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Can't I come visit my old home once in a while?"

"If that were the case, you would visit more _often_, not once a _year_."

The dead seriousness of the look Petra gave the younger mage made Amell shift uncomfortably and stare at the wall to her right. After a few moments, when Petra would not stop staring and crossed her arms over her chest in a way that simply yelled: 'I'm not moving until I get some answers', Lennith sighed and shrugged. "I've _wanted_ to come back and visit, honestly, but I haven't had the time. Grey Warden business takes up a lot more time and energy than you would think, despite the fact that the Blight is over. I haven't had time to write, and this is the first chance I've _had_ to come back."

"Oh," came the reply, and Petra let her arms fall to her sides. That explanation seemed sufficient. "Well, you're here now."

"Indeed I am," Lennith grinned. "So, what have I missed?"

The two mages made their way through the Circle Tower, catching up on old times and talking about anything and everything that came to mind. Although they didn't pass anyone in the halls that Amell recognized, every other person recognized _her_, and even though it was something she was thoroughly used to, it was still _weird_. Despite the strangeness of it all, she smiled and waved at every person that tried to get her attention.

It was all so tiring, keeping up the facade she had grown accustomed to wearing all the time, but it was necessary. How would people react to see the Grey Warden sad, even depressed, or just down right exhausted? The Blight was over, that was true, but Ferelden would not be fully rebuilt for years to come, and if the person who was responsible didn't smile and act _happy_ all the time, well, that wouldn't be good, would it? Lennith had come to terms with the fact that she was viewed as "Ferelden's Shining Light", despite the fact it was not her that struck the killing blow to the archdemon. But, the people needed something or someone to be the epitome of their happiness and hope of renewal.

Sitting on the edge of Petra's bed, it was hard for Lennith to keep their conversation going; she was downright exhausted from her travels. When the time came to return to the Tower, she traveled almost non-stop, rarely sleeping because--

"Lennith? Are you alright? You haven't heard a thing I've been saying for the past five minutes."

Blinking a few times, she looked up at Petra. "Sorry. I'm just tired, is all," she admitted.

The older mage nodded, understanding. "Shall we go tell Greagoir and Irving you'll be spending the night?"

"I was hoping for more than that, if they'd let me."

"Oh, yes, I can see them turning away the Grey Warden, hero of Ferelden. No, they most certainly would not want you staying here for another minute."

"Yes, sarcasm suits you well, Petra," Amell rolled her eyes, and standing up, she realized how tired her body really was; her lids hung heavy, her feet did their hardest to keep her planted in one spot, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in Petra's bed and slip off into sleep. Being the Grey Warden she was, Lennith was quite used to doing what she had to do, rather than what she wanted to do, and so she slapped her mind into focus before following her friend out of the room and down the hall to find both Irving and Greagoir in the First Enchanter's office.

"Of, course, my dear, you are more than welcome to stay at the Tower, for as long as you wish. It was, after all, your home before you had to leave us," Irving spoke slowly, his old voice creaking with age and power.

"Yes, I see no reason why not," the Knight-Commander nodded.

Irving's response was exactly what Lennith expected. Greagoir's, however, was not. She assumed he would refuse, then proceed to bicker with the First Enchanter until he relented and agreed that it would be fine that she stayed in the Tower. It was odd how easily and readily he agreed, but perhaps the old man had softened up since she was responsible not only for the end of the Blight, but for clearing out the Tower after Uldred's debacle. Honestly enough, it was nice not seeing that critical look in the Knight-Commander's eye, that glint that somehow allowed him to peer into a person, past their skin and into their soul, the look that said 'I am always watching'.

"Petra, why don't you bring Amell to the dining room to get some food while I send an apprentice to fix up one of the beds for her," Irving spoke up, nodding to the red head.

"Of course, First Enchanter," she replied, bowing her head in respect. Hooking her arm around Lennith's, the older mage lead the Warden out of Irving's office and back into the hall. Once they were a few feet away from the open door, Petra turned to look at her friend. "How long are you planning on staying? A while, I hope. We have quite a bit of catching up to do," she smiled.

"I'm not sure, truthfully," Amell shrugged, her lips curving down in a small frown. "I was thinking of just staying for a week, you know, like a small vacation. But maybe I'll stay longer. The Blight is over, and since a handful of Orlesian Grey Wardens have moved into Solder's Peak, to help the Ferelden Grey Wardens rebuild, there's no reason why I have to return immediately. Maybe I'll just wait until there's a need for me _to_ return."

The two mages sat in the near empty dining room, speaking quietly while Amell ate a small portion of bread and vegetables. She didn't feel very hungry, but she knew she had to get something in her stomach. She knew that casting magic on an empty stomach was quite possibly the most stupid thing a mage could do. Channeling magic used up quite a bit of the body's energy, and casting while hungry or tired could lead to some fairly dangerous outcomes. Once, Lennith nearly took off Alistair's head and her dog's fur the first time she tried casting after going almost a full day without food. True, she was now in the Circle Tower, surrounded by mages and templars, and there was a very low chance of anything dangerous happening, but as a Grey Warden she learned to always be prepared.

A young man, an apprentice, by his robes, interrupted the two mages. "Forgive me, Grey Warden, but I've been asked to show you to your room," he spoke softly, his head bowed low, eyes never looking up.

With a nod and murmur of thanks, the women got up from their seats and followed the apprentice out of the dining room, up a few flights of stairs and down the hallway.

Leaning in close to Amell, her brow furrowed, Petra whispered, "Why would they give you a room on the templar's floor?"

"Not enough beds on the mage's floor?" she whispered back, her eyes glancing around quickly.

Petra shook her head quickly and firmly. "We mostly have apprentices, so many of the beds on the mage floor are empty."

"Your room, Grey Warden," the apprentice stopped and motioned to the room he was standing in front of.

Both mages stood up straight and stared, first at the room, then to the two templars standing guard outside of the room, then to the apprentice, then at each other.

Groaning, and letting her head fall forward in defeat, Lennith muttered, "So _this_ is why Greagoir readily agreed to let me stay at the Tower."

With a huff, Petra firmly crossed her arms over her chest and glared daggers at both templars. "So, what, the Grey Warden, HERO of Ferelden is under house arrest?"

The templar standing to the right of the room, his head covered by his templar helm, shook his head before replying, "No. Our orders were to only stand guard while the Grey Warden slept."

"Yes, because I'm a Grey Warden I'm more susceptible to becoming an abomination. Greagoir and the Chantry must be happy as pigs in shit to have me staying in the Circle Tower. What better way to keep an eye on me?" Lennith's voice dripped with sarcasm and annoyance.

The same templar shrugged weakly. "We're only doing what we've been ordered to, Grey Warden. We know we're all alive thanks to you, but, we can't refuse our orders," he muttered through his helm, apparently embarrassed by his duty.

Sighing softly, Amell just nodded and accepted it. What else could she do? "Forgive me, ser Templar. I've had a long day." She turned to Petra. "I'm just going to go fall asleep. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Of course. I'll come break you out of your prison once I'm awake," the older mage winked before departing.

"Just so you know," Lennith spoke to the templars, stepping past them and into her room, her hand reaching out to press against the door. "I snore. And loudly." With an evil grin, she closed the door behind her and flopped down on the bed, groaning happily as her muscles relaxed.

Now that she was alone and it was quiet, the question finally crept into her mind: Was it a good idea, returning to the Circle Tower? Truthfully, Lennith had no idea whether it was the smart thing to do, or quite possibly the most idiotic...

Before the last Landsmeet convened, before the death of the archdemon, Amell had to make a decision. Would she support Anora as queen or Alistair as king? For days, she spent every night turning over her choices and all the possible outcomes. Everything fell down to whether or not she would be greedy and act upon her heart. She could make Anora queen, and then run away with Alistair and rebuild the Grey Wardens with him. Or, she could make Alistair king, forget her own happiness, and go to rebuild the Grey Wardens by herself. For some reason, though, she wasn't happy with either decision. She could see how power hungry Anora would be, how many mistakes she might make, because like it or not, she was Loghain's daughter, and some way or another, that would most certainly have some sort of negative impact upon her rule. But she knew Alistair didn't _want_ to be king. That alone would jeopardize his rule, and in the end, she knew that everything would fall to Arl Eamon, and while the man was still quite strong and spirited, he was getting old.

And yet.. what if she mixed her options? Anora and Alistair, while they might never love each other, were good counters for one another. They would learn from each other, and in that, they would rule strong, and that would be best for Ferelden, wouldn't it? What would the Grey Warden's happiness matter? In the long run, it didn't. Her heart be damned, it was the best decision she could make.

The night that she had made her final decision, Lennith packed up her heart and her emotions, shoved them into a little box, and hid them from herself. Out of no where, she would destroy what she and Alistair had, and if she didn't hide her emotions from herself, she would break, especially when she would see Alistair's reaction, see his own heart break right in front of her. _That_ was what she was most worried about – not hurting herself, but hurting Alistair. Despite her stomach roiling, Lennith eventually fell asleep. And dreamed.

When she awoke the next morning, she couldn't tell if her heart and mind were in collusion and just downright fucking with her, or if they were offering her some solace. She could remember sitting up in bed, her brows knitted together, confusion plain as day across her face. Why would she think about _him_? She had put _him_ out of her mind the moment _he_ damned her for not destroying every single mage left alive in the tower after Uldred's downfall. But before all that he _had_ liked her, and she him, although not even her closest friends even knew about her crush...

In fact, wasn't it _because_ of _him_ that she first turned to Alistair? She could distinctively remember that at first, she found Alistair entertaining, funny and silly, and a great friend, nothing more. Wasn't it because _he_ had nearly spat at her that she did her best to forget about _him_ completely? And what better way to forget about someone than to turn to a friend. Yes, it was then that Lennith found herself to actually be interested in Alistair as more than just a comrade-in-arms, more than just a friend. For the first time, she saw how handsome he was, and that was the first time she let him in.

So why did she dream about _him_ and not Alistair? Why, after all this time, when it was nothing more than a silly, naïve girl's first crush did she dream about _him_? And then it dawned on her: she never really forgot about him, nor did she forget about the feelings she had for him, or how her feelings soared to new heights when she saw him in Uldred's prison, and then plummeted and exploded when his dehydrated and hate filled ramblings filled her ears:

"_...one thing I always wanted, but could never have..."_

"_...ill-advised infatuation..."_

"_...foolish fancy of a naïve boy..."_

"_You are a mage, and I a templar. It is my duty to oppose all that you are."_

Despite all of it, despite everything, Lennith still found herself wondering. Would it be possible? _Could_ it be possible? Probably not, and in the end, she was probably setting herself up for a painful downfall, one she might not recover from, but she had to try. _She_ was the heroine, damn it, and she would make her own happy ending, even if it broke her heart and shattered her dreams. For once... for once in all the time she had been a Grey Warden, she would do something for herself.

With a smile on her lips, and a goal before her, she had gotten up from bed and with Arl Eamon, made her way to the Landsmeet. Although her decision was made, she was still quite glad she had the opportunity to speak with both Anora and Alistair before making the announcement. The fact that Alistair was _ready_ to be king made it all the easier, and after a whispered, 'I'm sorry', she made her announcement. As she had predicted, the hurt on Alistair's face when she made her decision was almost tangible, but some how, at the same time... it was just down right funny. She could just picture him yelling a big ole 'what the fuck?' at her.

He said as much when they were finally alone. Had he not matured as much as he had over their journey together, it would have taken much, much longer to explain why she did what she did. But when she told him how it would be the best for Ferelden, that he himself had not so long ago reminded her of their duty and honor as Grey Wardens, he understood, and accepted it. That was the last time they had been alone together. The last time they had kissed. And as she planned, it was the last time they would ever see each other again.

That was when she had finally decided that she would return to the Circle Tower. Sure, it took much longer than expected, but as a Grey Warden, technically the last as Loghain had been the one to slay the archdemon, and Alistair was now king, she had plenty to do. But once affairs were in order, and the bulk of the wandering darkspawn hordes disposed of, Lennith began her journey back to the place that was her home.

And so there she was, sitting on a bed in the Circle Tower wondering where Cullen was, and how he would react to seeing her.

* * *

**A/N**: If anyone is confused, the game ending that I'm using for the premise of the story is that Alistair was "hardened", Loghain was spared and made a Grey Warden, Alistair and Anora marry and Loghain is the one to defeat the archdemon. No god child for Morrigan!

Petra was such a minor character in the game, that I thought I'd bring her into the story as one of the Grey Warden's friends. I admit, when she asked Wynne if she should come along during the Broken Circle line, I had hoped she would. Sniffle, oh well.

And last, the "Templar Floor". I'm sure everyone agrees that the Circle Tower has many, many more floors than were shown in the game, so I decided to give the templars a floor of their own. How nice of me!


	2. Chapter 1 Cullen

**A/N:** Two Chapter Ones?! Yeah, I thought I'd try something a little bit different with this fic. Each chapter shall have two sides to it, one from Lennith's POV, and the other from Cullen's. The idea first came to mind when I realized how much is actually going on in Cullen's mind and heart that it only seemed right to give him his own view of things. I could very well just jump back and forth between POVs during each chapter, but I admit, I'm not very good at it; very often words and views get mussed up, and even I forget whose POV I'm currently focusing on. *weep* Oh, well.

* * *

_Exigo  
_Chapter One  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Cullen

Discipline.

...training to act in accordance with rules...

...a regimen that improves a skill...

...training effect of experience...

...behavior in accord with rules of conduct...

Greagoir had given the templars multiple explanations and definitions of the word. He had told them over and over again that every templar, every soldier, every person, should know the word, embrace it, and make it a part of his or her world. But at the moment, all Cullen knew of the word was that it was the reason he was standing so patiently in the hallway outside the mage quarters on the second floor.

As he did every day, although nothing ever happened.

As he did every day, ever since that Maker forsaken event with Uldred.

Part of him wanted to sigh, both in frustration and for want of something to do. But it was because of discipline that he just adjusted his weight and straightened his back. Besides, he would be relieved of his post soon enough, and he would be free to do what he wanted in those few hours he had before he would get some sleep. By then, he wouldn't want to sigh any more.

A couple of apprentices passed him some time later, their heads bowed together, their voices hushed whispers. It was a sight he was used to seeing, mages whispering whenever they passed him, whenever they passed any templar, really. At first, he could remember how much it bothered him, and how his mind immediately jumped to conclusions – they were planning something that they shouldn't; they were really blood mages, left over from the Uldred catastrophe. Very often, he would run to Greagoir at the end of his shift and tell the Knight-Commander everything. Cullen knew how annoyed Greagoir was at these times, but he didn't care. He needed the Knight-Commander to listen! Because what it, what if...

How many months had he spent on those conspiracy theories? Cullen wasn't sure, and he wanted to sigh, _again_, this time at himself. He was thankful, though. Greagoir was certainly annoyed with him, but he was still patient, still understanding. It had not been he who had been tortured, and so Greagoir had granted him quite a bit of leeway.

"_You are a good templar, my boy," Greagoir had told him on many occasions, "but you need to stop worrying about the what ifs and concentrate on what is happening now, in the present."_

The Knight-Commander's words never really had an effect on him. Cullen listened, certainly, but, the words never assuaged his fears. He tried forgetting about what had happened, up near the Harrowing Chamber, but it was not easy, and despite all of his discipline, he only found himself becoming more and more upset, annoyed, angry... Part of him knew it was because of those negative emotions that he even had any energy. He knew that if he wasn't as upset, as angry as he was over the whole episode, that he would probably just lie curled up in bed, mourning his friends and wondering why he hadn't died with them.

But then the Blight was over, and everything seemed to have changed. His black and gray world finally started to see some color as he realized--

"Oi, Cullen."

Looking up, Cullen's eyes fell on an approaching templar, Chasan, from the sound of his voice. That was strange.. Chasan wasn't the one who should be relieving him. And wasn't it even a bit too early for his shift to be over?

"Greagoir told me to come find you. He's holding a meeting and wants all the templars there."

All the templars? Beneath his helm, Cullen frowned. Why would Greagoir call all the templars together so late at night? Immediately, his heart began to pound. "Is something wrong?" he reached up to remove his helm.

Chasan shrugged. "Nothing ground breaking, I assume. He just told me to find all the templars on this floor and tell them to head upstairs. He didn't seem worried or anything. Actually, he seemed a bit happy.."

Adjusting the helm to hold it under his right arm, against his side, Cullen nodded, the beating of his heart already slowing. "I shall head upstairs immediately," he nodded before turning and moving towards the staircase.

"Yep, see you up there!"

He continued to frown as he climbed the staircases leading up to the templar's floor. What could cause Greagoir to be _happy_ enough to call all the templars together for a meeting so late at night? Cullen could not fathom an answer, and so rather than worry over it, he simply followed the familiar path towards the chapel and stood towards the back, waiting for the rest of the templars, and Greagoir, to arrive.

When the rebuilding of the Circle had started, a few templars stepped forwards with a suggestion. The templar floor always contained their sleeping quarters, a training room, Greagoir's office, and a meeting room. They suggested that rather than rebuild the meeting room, it be renovated and turned into a chapel that could serve as both a chapel and a meeting room. Everyone knew the real reason for the suggestion was because none of the surviving templars trusted the mages, especially with how the chapel down a few floors had been destroyed. But, Greagoir acquiesced, finding the idea, despite it's intentions, quite suitable. It turned out that he had actually always wanted a chapel for the templars themselves.

Some few minutes later, when everyone had arrived and Greagoir stood towards the front, Cullen took a seat in one of the pews, placing his helm beside him on the wooden seat.

"Starting tonight," Greagoir began, "some of you will have new orders. It seems the Tower has a new visitor, or should I say, a returned mage. We do not know how long she will be staying, but I feel that we need to take a few extra precautions for the duration of her stay. Before I go any further, I will need four volunteers who are willing to have a change in their normal stations."

For the briefest of seconds, Cullen thought of volunteering, but he immediately turned the idea down. He was used to his station in the hall from mid-morning to night, and didn't see why he should change it. One station was probably going to be just as boring as another.

"Very well," Greagoir nodded. "Chasan, Saevan, Reon and Tyan. Starting tonight, you four will take up a new post, switching every other night, outside a room on this floor. Chasan and Saevan, you two will start tonight, Reon and Tyan, you will begin tomorrow night. The rest of you must begin to be more vigilant, for I do not know what will happen to the Tower with our new arrival."

"Two templars for one mage? Isn't that a little excessive, Knight-Commander?"

Cullen wasn't sure who it was that spoke up, but, he actually agreed with the speaker. What could prompt Greagoir to post two templars outside one room on the templar's floor for one mage? In all his time in the Tower, it had not happened before.

"Perhaps, but it is not every day the Tower plays host to a woman who is both a mage and a Grey Warden," Greagoir replied.

Immediately, the chapel was filled with chatter as every single person in the room knew of whom Greagoir spoke. How could they not? Cullen found himself staring at the pew before him. Had he.. had he heard right? _She_ would, had, returned to the Tower?

Greagoir raised his hands for silence. Although quite a bit of the chatter died down, the chapel was far from silent.

"How can we treat the Grey Warden like this?" it was Chasan who spoke up this time, his helm on the pew beside him. He was standing up now, anger playing across his face. "We are all _alive_ because of her!" Various groups of templars vocally agreed with him.

"We are in a chapel dedicated to the Maker, I will have quiet," Greagoir responded, his eyes narrowing as he waited for the templars to quiet down. His gaze turned to Chasan, and the younger templar sat back down. "We all know that Blights occur every few centuries. More often than not, all Grey Wardens die during the fight against the archdemon. As it appears that never before has a Grey Warden who was also a mage survived a Blight, the Chantry and I feel it would be wise that we took extra precautions. We do not know the state of her mind, nor how her connection to the Fade has changed now that the Blight is over. So while she stays within the Tower, she will be watched, and carefully."

When multiple templars once more began to protest, Greagoir raised his hands and shook his head. "You have your orders, that is all." Without another word, Greagoir left the room. The noise within the chapel nearly tripled.

"This isn't right."

"So because she saved the world, she now has to be guarded by two templars every night?"

"Maybe it's a good idea.. I mean, maybe something might happen while she's here."

"Yeah, because something happened this entire year since the Blight."

Cullen vaguely heard what the other templars were saying, but it wasn't really registering. He was still stuck on the fact that _she_ was back in the Tower, the woman he had dreamed about innumerous times, the woman he had scorned, the woman who had saved his sanity. For a moment, he couldn't fathom it – why would _she_ come back? But what did that matter. The fact was that _she_ was in the Tower, and he had no idea how to react.

As though he were in a daze, Cullen picked up his helm and left the chapel. He went straight to his sleeping quarters, shut the door and sat down on his bed, still fully clad in his templar armor. Images of two years ago began to manifest in his mind: the times he saw _her_ in the halls when _she_ was an apprentice, _her_ Harrowing, after _her_ Harrowing... His mind jumped forward to the time he was caught in Uldred's prison, to the secret dreams he had of _her_, brought forth by blood mages.. the images of _her_ standing outside his prison, except they weren't images, it was really _her_. Part of him had been so happy to see _her_, alive and uncorrupted, but then he realized _she_ was a mage.. and mages needed to die.

Grunting, Cullen closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his face in his gauntlet-covered hands. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, how much hate and scorn he had for all mages, including _her_. He couldn't understand why _she_ wouldn't destroy all those who might have been corrupted by blood mages, who might have been blood mages themselves. The only conclusion he could come to was that _she_ was a blood mage as well. Why else would _she_ risk everyone and everything?

So much hatred... so much scorn... so much spite... It had been as though he were nothing but an empty vessel, devoid of all thought and feeling. That emptiness made room for all the negative emotions he had begun to embrace. And soon he was no longer empty, soon he was filled to the brim with anger and resentment and derision. It was all he knew, all he could understand, all he _wanted_ to understand.

But he had been a good person, once. He had known happiness, joy, bliss, perhaps even love. And although those emotions were stowed away in some tiny part of himself, they were still there, and slowly, they began to eat away at the hate. Soon, he was just tired. He didn't _want_ to be so angry anymore, he didn't _want_ to hate everything and everyone. The negative and the positive eventually clashed, neither beating the other into submission, and so everything turned black and gray.

The past was the past, and he had finally begun to realize that. But no longer could he see the good or the bad in things. Things just were, they just existed. Days passed, and the anger turned to a feeling of just being numb. It was hard to think, hard to speak, hard to do his job. Cullen didn't see much of a point in doing anything, but part of him kept living from day to day, some part of him fought off the insanity and hung on for dear life to the sanity. Perhaps it was discipline...

Shaking his head, the templar looked up and stared at the wall opposite him. It was just a midnight blue stone, like the rest of the Tower. Nothing was written or drawn on it, there were no cracks or abnormalities. But because of its pristine perfection, he could see reflected on it what he saw in his mind: memories of a year ago.

He could see images of _her... _images of _her_ and blurred shapes representing random Fereldens. The Blight was ended, and everyone was celebrating, including _her_. Suddenly, it was as though he could see in color again. The sky was no longer gray, it was a beautiful pale blue. The grass no longer black but its natural green. The dull aching of his heart was finally beginning to subside, and he was starting to see a reason for living, of surviving.

It had taken almost the entire year, from the end of the Blight up until recently, for Cullen to fully shrug off his depression. Things finally started to make sense again, things seemed to matter. He was finally seeing how life was a valuable thing, and although he would probably spend the rest of his in the Tower, he would at least treasure it. Ferelden was saved, and he, like all other Fereldens, was given a second chance at life (although a third in his case, considering the Tower beforehand). He would not squander it. He may be bored from time to time, but he would not waste what he had, what his friends had lost. And it was all thanks to _her_.

But what would happen now? _She_ was back in the Tower, and certainly, at some point, he would see _her_. What would _her_ reaction be? Would _she_ hate him for how he had last treated _her_? He hoped not, Maker forbid, he hoped not.

Getting up from his bed, Cullen removed his armor, wondering what exactly would happen now that the Grey Warden was back at the Circle Tower. He had so many questions and no answers. But one thing was for certain: his heart felt lighter and the familiar tingle at the back of his stomach that he hadn't felt since her Harrowing seemed to have returned.

* * *

**A/N: **Chasan, Saevan, Reon and Tyan were just names I picked for some templars. None of them are in the game, so don't go looking for them.


	3. Chapter 2 Lennith

_Exigo  
_Chapter Two  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Lennith

"What the hell?"

"What is it doing?!"

"What IS it?!"

Rather than waking up to Petra's voice, or a shake of her shoulder, Lennith found herself waking to the sounds of clanking armor, pounding footsteps, and a general ruckus outside her door. Sleep quickly left her as her worst nightmare came to mind: was the Tower under attack _again_? Leaping out of bed, the Grey Warden ran to the door and flung it open, her hands raising as she readied herself to start throwing spells. Rather than cast, however, she stood in the doorway, staring with large, dumb-founded eyes.

There were no less than five templars running around the hall chasing after a brown blur. Said brown blur was running all over the place, around templars, between their legs, its paws clattering against the floor, and every so often barking in amusement. There were no demons, no abominations out in the hall. The templars were trying to catch a dog. _Her_ dog, in fact.

With a sigh, Amell crouched down on the floor and clicked her tongue, arms opening as her Mabari quickly turned around and bounded over to her, knocking over two templars in the process. "Hello to you too," she laughed as he licked her face, his stub of a tail wagging.

"What's going on?" Petra asked, as she made her way down the hall and stopped before Lennith, her eyebrow raised in confusion at seeing half the templars in the hall sprawled on the floor. "What did you do, get so angry you ran out of your room and knocked all all the templars out?" she laughed.

Amell grinned, standing up off the floor, but reaching out to scratch behind her Mabari's ear. "Nah, it seems my Mabari found his way here," she chuckled.

The dog looked up at Petra and barked happily, his tail continuing to wiggle.

"How did he know you were here? How did he even _get_ here?" Petra asked, staring down at the over-sized animal.

"Mabari are a lot smarter than people give them credit for," Amell replied, patting her Mabari's back. "Normally he stays with me all the time, but he wanted to look around the Lake yesterday. He probably fell asleep after chasing some small rodents then swam here." She sniffed. Yep, wet dog smell.

"What, he swam across the lake?"

Lennith nodded. "He may hate baths, but he loves to swim."

Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, the dog just panted happily.

"Speaking of baths..." Petra trailed off, eyeing the dog and trying hard not to cover her nose.

Well aware what that look meant, as Wynne had given him that similar look multiple times before in the past right before bathing him, Lennith's Mabari whined pitifully and quickly hid behind Amell's legs.

"You do smell a little rancid," she laughed, reaching back to pat his head. "But the smell will fade when he dries off. At least a little."

"Anyway," Petra shook her head. "I was going to head to the dining room for breakfast. Do you want to join me?"

"Yeah, I should probably get something in my stomach."

Before Lennith could move, her Mabari reached up and grabbed a hold of the sleeve of her robe, his teeth biting down on it gently as he let out a muffled whine.

"Yes, yes, I'll sneak you some food too," she grinned at her Mabari. He barked happily and let go.

"So how did you sleep last night? It must have been quite unnerving with two templars right outside your door," Petra commented as they descended the many stairs to the dining area.

"Quite well, actually. And I'm sure I kept both of them wide awake, what with my snoring and all."

After they ate, Petra bade Amell goodbye as she had an apprentice she had to take care of, and promised she'd find Lennith later. Sitting at a now empty table with her hand lazily patting her Mabari, Amell was shocked to realize that for the first time, she could do what she wanted. There were no impending darkspawn to kill, no paperwork to take care of, no people to talk to, no visits to make. She was incredibly free for the entire day. And it bothered her. What was she supposed to do with herself? Over the past two years, she had been so busy taking care of things that she had forgotten what she used to do in her spare time _before_ she became a Grey Warden.

As she was a mage and Grey Warden, she was free to leave the Tower, but there didn't seem a point in doing that. She had traveled the world so much that there just didn't seem a point in going back out into it when she had just arrived at the Tower last night. With a frown, Amell slouched down in her chair. Aside from Petra and her Mabari, she didn't have any friends in the Tower, as most of them had been killed. Petra had an apprentice, and that meant she would be spending quite a bit of time with the young boy (or girl, she didn't ask) which meant Lennith would have a lot of time on her hands. Sure, her Mabari was with her, but he couldn't exactly _talk_ to her like a human could. Maybe returning to the Tower was a bad idea after all; she didn't realize how bored she'd be.

_Stupid, weren't you planning on visiting Cullen? See how he was?_

That was another problem. How exactly would she go about finding him? It would seem quite suspicious if she stalked the halls, glancing into each room trying to find him. And then when she found him, what then? _"Oh, hello, Cullen, I just wanted to see if you still hated my guts, and if not, want to come back to my room?"_ Oh, yes, that would work just swell. Why hadn't she put more thought into this?

_Because there wasn't any point in putting more thought into it,_ she promptly told herself. The only thing she could do once returning to the Tower would be to wait and see what fate had in store for her, what threads she would follow. If fate was kind, she would be lead back to Cullen, and things would continue from there, but if not... well, then nothing. She would leave and return to Soldier's Peak and be the Grey Warden everyone expected her to be. As depressing as it sounded, Lennith was perfectly all right with it; she would see if she could make her own happy ending, and if not, then, at least she had tried.

Without much else to do, she stood from the table and wandered out into the hallway, her slippered feet following the familiar path to the library. Her Mabari followed her, every so often stopping to sniff at or lick the floor. Like most mages, when she was an apprentice and she wasn't learning or studying or playing with her friends in the little bit of free time she had, Lennith would spend much time in the library, reading. As all apprentices were locked in the Tower for years, there wasn't much else for them to do.

Once reaching the library, a large grin spread across her lips. It was as big and full of books as she remembered. Certainly, many of the tomes had been replaced as they had been destroyed by abominations and blood mages, and the room smelled less of dust and more of fresh parchment, but what did that matter? It just meant there were many, many books she could read, many she had not seen before, many she had not heard of. She felt like an apprentice again, as though a whole new world of knowledge had opened up to her.

With no idea where to start, she randomly picked a row of books and wandered down it, her fingers tracing over book spines, new and old, until she found a title that was interesting. Two, actually. Taking the large tomes with her, she made her way over to an empty table, plopped down with the books and started to read, her Mabari sneezing once before curling up at her feet. Time quickly lost all meaning for the two of them, her Mabari sleeping with sweet dreams, Lennith losing herself in words, and neither noticed the sun setting, or the apprentices moving around to light candles.

It wasn't until much later at night, the moon halfway towards zenith, when she had read through three books and half of a fourth that Petra found her. The two ate dinner together before trekking up the stairs and towards Petra's room. They stood in the hall outside Petra's room, talking for a few moments before the older mage yawned. Amell wished her goodnight before turning around and making her way down the hall towards the staircase.

Humming quietly to herself, a tune somewhat similar to the one Leliana had sung in camp so many months ago, Lennith adjusted the large book under her arm, her lips curled upwards as she watched her Mabari bound around beside her. The book was the one she had started in the library and planned on finishing in bed. Before she could make it to the staircase, though, she stopped in her tracks, her brow furrowing as a familiar scent hit her nose.

Wood... pine? No, cedar. And promptly all color drained from her face. She knew that smell. Fairly well, in fact, despite not having encountered it in over a year. It wasn't as though the smell was strong enough that anyone within a ten yard radius could smell it, it was that it was a smell Lennith had come to love, a small she had associated with _him_ because any time she was near _him_, she could smell it. It was probably a very faint smell, actually, but her nose was just.. so sensitive to it.

And sure enough, turning around the bend in the hallway, there stood Cullen, his helm under his arm, standing guard in the hallway, just like the time she had seen him after her Harrowing. Apparently, he had heard her soft footfalls as he had turned to look at her.

_What do I say? What do I do? What if he hates me? What if he doesn't? What if this was the biggest mistake of my entire existence?_

Within seconds, questions flitted through her mind, and she was on the verge of panic; she had no plan! Okay, so since she had no plan, the cumulative "Plan B:" immediately went into effect.

Reigning in her emotions like the practiced Grey Warden she was, Amell let a soft smile come to her lips. "Hello, Cullen," she greeted him quietly when she was close enough for him to hear. Her voice and demeanor were soft and friendly, her smile inviting, her voice alluring. At least, that's what she hoped.

Either way, the look of bewilderment on Cullen's face was good enough. "H-hello.." came the quiet and confused response. It seemed his stutter was back.

But, she had to play it safe. So rather than stay and talk, she nodded to him before continuing down the hall, fighting the urge to run away and up the stairs like a little girl. The moment she was on the staircase, however, she took off like a bat out of hell, rushing up the stairs and all the way to her room, running past her "Guard Templars" and into her room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. Well _that_ certainly wasn't how a Grey Warden was supposed to act.

Moving over to her bed and dropping the book on it, she only half paid attention to her Mabari, who was bouncing around her, barking happily at her. She sat on the edge of her bed, and when he hopped up to rest his front paws and head on her lap, demanding her attention, she laughed: "I guess my good mood is rubbing off on you, huh?"

Another happy bark came as her answer. His tongue promptly fell to hang out the side of his mouth, and he panted heavily.

Reaching down to scratch behind his ears, Amell let her eyes go out of focus as she brought back the memories of only a minute before. It was only a greeting. A 'hello'. But it was enough. He didn't spit on her, didn't curse her, didn't ignore her, didn't call her names. Perhaps he didn't hate her as much as she had assumed. She had hoped that the anger and hatred he had shown her the last time she saw him was only because of what happened to him and his friends, and maybe she was right after all. She certainly hoped so.

A smile on her lips, the Grey Warden slipped under the covers of her bed and curled up to enjoy her book. Very often her mind would wander, and she would have to re-read multiple paragraphs to actually understand what her eyes had just skimmed over. It's not as though it bothered her, though, because who would deny that daydreams were sweet?


	4. Chapter 2 Cullen

_Exigo  
_Chapter Two  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Cullen

It had been a very long time since Cullen realized dreams could be good, no, that they could be amazing. He could honestly say that he barely remembered the last time he had a dream that made him _smile_ when he awoke the next morning.

Nightmares were all that plagued Cullen's dreaming mind for the past two years. Dreams of death, dreams of torture, dreams of horror... Images of blood and gore, screams and cries... Over and over, he had watched his friends die in the most macabre of ways. Many times they would beg him to help, some times they would question why _he_ had survived and not them. The nightmares were always different, but they were always gruesome, and he would always wake drenched in sweat, his heart pounding, his breath ragged.

At one point, the nightmares had worn on his mind so much that for a full month he did his best to avoid sleep. He would train for hours at a time, walk the hallways at night, walk around the Tower outside in the morning. Fear fueled him, and he found that aside from the occasional meal, it was the only energy he needed to keep his eyes open and his body moving. Eventually, Greagoir took notice, finding something off about Cullen's behavior or habits (he wasn't sure which), and sat the younger templar down for a talk. Although the Knight-Commander questioned him to the best of his ability, his eyes narrowed and glinting the entire time as though he tried to read Cullen's mind, but the younger templar made excuse after excuse, reasons for odd behavior and the like. In the end, Cullen's reasoning seemed to be enough for Greagoir, as he dropped the subject, but exhaustion finally began to catch up to Cullen. That was when he turned to lyrium.

His entire life as a templar, and even during his apprentice days, Cullen was always disgusted by lyrium. He understood the _reasoning_ behind a templar's use of the thick, blue liquid, but he didn't _agree_ with it, especially when he learned about lyrium addiction. Why would a person in their right mind use something like a drug to improve their abilities when in the end it would cause their mind to decay? It made no sense to Cullen, and from day one, he did his best to find ways around taking the viscous stuff. There were times when he would have to ingest the stuff in front of a superior, true, but any time after that he would avoid it like a plague. To make up for his lack of "magical help", Cullen would spend twice as much time training twice as hard as any templar. In the end, his powers, when tested, were just as strong as any other templar's.

Cullen's fear of his nightmares was stronger than his repulsion of lyrium. He figured that if he _had_ to sleep, perhaps the lyrium would help him. Because of the Chantry's monopoly on the blue liquid, he would have been unable to find a steady supply of it to help, but since he had secreted away the vials he was _supposed_ to have taken in the past, he was pretty much set. At night, right before he went to sleep, he would drink an entire vial of the stuff, then force his body to sleep. For a short while, the lyrium seemed to help; he didn't have any nightmares. But that only lasted for a week. Soon, the lack of nightmares turned into hallucinations, and despite his body's exhaustion, he was unable to sleep. Incapable of telling the difference between what was actually happening and the hallucinations, Cullen stopped taking lyrium. The nightmares were bad, but at least he knew what they were – dreams.

Over time, the nightmares came less often, but still, normal dreams seemed to evade him. He eventually became numb to the nightmares, able to ignore them when he woke, no longer sweating, his heart no longer pounding. But last night... Last night was different.

For the first time in years, he dreamed of _her_. It was night time, and she was wearing a thin white dress while sitting on top of a green hill and staring up at the sky. He was sitting beside her, also looking up into the sky. No words were spoken and aside from a breeze, they both sat unmoving. Eventually, she turned to look at him and smiled warmly. That had been when he woke up, smiling himself.

The dream had been so simple, and it would probably be quite meaningless to anyone else. But it meant everything to Cullen:

It meant the nightmares were gone - he could dream again.

It meant the insanity was gone - he had his sanity back.

He felt normal.

He felt human.

He felt... happy.

Getting out of bed and putting his armor on, Cullen kept smiling to himself, replaying the short dream over and over in his mind. He knew the images would stay in his mind all day, perhaps all week, and it made everything seem brighter. Standing in a hallway where nothing would happen didn't seem so boring. In fact, he was almost looking forward to it because he would have a chance to think about the dream, to try and figure out what it meant, if it even meant anything besides the fact that he had been thinking about _her_ before he fell asleep.

Once changed, Cullen left his sleeping quarters and made his way towards the dining hall, stopping only once to find five templars sprawled about the hallway. Three were just getting up and the other two were lying flat on their backs. For the briefest of moments, he thought something might be wrong in the Tower, but he quickly pushed the worry from his mind as he heard all five of the templars grumbling instead of yelling warnings.

"What.. happened?" Cullen asked, adjusting his helm beneath his arm.

With a grunt, one of the templars standing up removed his helmet and shook out his short blond hair. "A rabid beast is what happened," Saevan grumbled.

Cullen raised an eyebrow.

"We were walking towards the stairs to make our way to breakfast," one of the templars on the floor explained, sitting up and removing his helmet as well. "When we got here, we found Chasan and Saevan chasing around this huge dog. So, we try and help them out, but the next thing we know, we're all lying on the floor 'cuz the damned mutt knocked us all over."

"I swear he thought it was a game..." moaned the other templar, still sprawled out on the floor with his helm on.

"Where did the dog go?" Cullen asked.

"Went with the Grey Warden," Chasan spoke up, bending over to hold his knees, apparently trying to catch his breath. "I didn't know she had a Mabari. Either way, the damn thing is like a tank. Knocked us all on our asses without a second thought."

"I.. see. Well then, uh, carry on," Cullen nodded before stepping over the templar on the floor and continuing on his way towards the dining area. Well, at least he knew where _she_ was sleeping. Not that he would or could do anything about that. It was just something nice to know, he guessed.

Although it wasn't meant that way, the dining hall was pretty much split in half with mages eating on one side and templars on another. Like every morning, Cullen sat with a small group of templars and ate a small but hardy breakfast. He had never been the vocal sort, even when he was younger, and so while eating, he generally kept quiet, simply listening rather than talking. As expected, the other templars at his table spoke about the Grey Warden's return and how it simply didn't seem right that Greagoir had them treating her the way he did.

"It just doesn't seem right," Reon pounded his fist into the table. "It's like Chasan said. She goes out of her way and saves all of Ferelden, hell, possibly all of Thedas, and now that she decides to come back here, take a rest, maybe say hello to her friends, we have to watch her like she's about to turn into an abomination? Seriously, what is Greagoir thinking? I mean, I understand she's a mage, but still, it isn't right."

"You've known her longer than us, Cullen," Tyan spoke up, pointing the end of his fork in Cullen's direction as he chewed on his food. "What do you think about all this?"

Cullen was fully aware of the entire table going silent and turning to look at him. It took quite a bit of self control to make certain his ears didn't turn red; he hated being the center of attention. "I don't know," he shrugged. "I understand why the Knight-Commander and the Chantry feel this is what should be done, but I also agree that it doesn't seem right."

"See? Even Cullen agrees, and he's got the most reasons to not agree with us," Reon nodded. "We should all go up to Greagoir and tell him so."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll listen to a word we say," Tyan snorted. "When have you ever known him to be reasonable?"

No longer wanting to be a part of the conversation, Cullen quickly finished his breakfast, excused himself, and left the table. The remaining templars, all so caught up in their conversation, barely noticed his departure.

Once back out in the hallway, Cullen sighed, shaking his head. Aside from Greagoir, he was the senior templar left in the Tower, and because of that, it was pretty much expected that he agree with everything the Knight-Commander said or did. But most of the time he didn't. Such as now, with what was happening with _her_. It really did seem like Greagoir was having _her_ treated as though _she_ were a walking bomb waiting to explode and turn into an abomination. Although he wished he could do something about it, he knew he couldn't. He, like the rest of the templars, would have to suck it up and deal with it. And without much else to do, he slipped his helm on and headed down the hall to take up his post slightly earlier than normal.

The day passed like any other: he stood out in the hallway near the First Enchanter's office waiting for something that would not happen. At least, he knew, the day didn't seem as boring nor as dreary as any other day in the past. Every so often he would recall the dream and the memories kept the boredom away. Around the middle of his shift, he was replaced by another templar to take a break and get something to eat, but when he was finished, he returned to the same spot.

Near the end of his shift, Cullen reached up to remove his helm and slip it under his arm to hold it against his body. He ran a gauntlet-covered hand through his short hair, a few droplets of sweat sliding down the back of his neck, and he wondered why he bothered wearing the helm as much as he did. Shrugging it off, he settled back in his spot and just waited until he was relieved. As late at night as it was, most of the Tower was already asleep, so when the sound of someone approaching reached his ears, he turned to look down the hall. And his heart felt as though it were immediately trying to break through his ribcage.

His dream had portrayed her perfectly: her white hair (strangely dyed) pulled back in it's ever present bun with her bangs scattered about her forehead and the sides of her face, the same three scars running around the left side of her face, her blue eyes still bright as ever. She did, however, look quite a bit paler than he remembered, and he could see, just from a glance, that her eyes were much matured; so much must have happened to her since he saw her last.

"Hello, Cullen," she smiled as she passed him.

His mind was immediately thrown back to the time right after her Harrowing. "H-hello.." he stuttered after a moment, having lost all train of thought and finding it almost impossible to speak coherently.

And just like that, she disappeared around a bend in the hall, probably to make her way upstairs. He had been so focused on her, he didn't even realize the large Mabari walking at her side.

It took quite a while for his heart beat to return to normal, and when he was finally relieved of his post for the night, he returned to his sleeping quarters in a daze; one minute he was out in the hall, the next, he was sitting on the edge of his bed. He did not expect to see her, at least not so soon, but it seemed his expectations were wrong, and he was quite happy with that outcome.

When he finally fell asleep that night, finding it hard to get his mind and body to rest, he dreamed of _her_ once again.

* * *

**A/N**: I don't plan on posting two chapters at a time like this again. Only reason I'm doing it now is because of how short these two are. Enjoy. ^-^


	5. Chapter 3 Lennith

_Exigo_  
Chapter Three  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Lennith

Over the next week, the days passed in a similar fashion: Amell and Petra would have breakfast together, then Petra would go off to teach her apprentice while Lennith went to go read. Sometimes, she would join her Mabari outside and play with him, but eventually, she always found her way back to the library. After a few days of missing lunch, she would remember to snag some bread and save it in a napkin to munch on while she read. Later at night, when Petra was done with her lessons for the day, she and Amell would head down to the dining area to have dinner and pass the rest of the night before going their separate ways to their beds. Each day seemed similar to the last, but the Grey Warden enjoyed every moment of every day.

Then there were the times she would pass Cullen in the hall. She still only greeted him with a smile and hello, and he in turn would return the hello with one of his own. Gradually, though, it seemed he was losing his stutter. It still wasn't much, but it made her heart flutter and her head light.

Some nights, when she wasn't feeling very tired, she would stand in the doorway of her room and talk with her "Guard Templars". It turned out, every other night, the templars switched out for another pair, a total of four taking their turns guarding her room at night. All four of them had mixed feelings about their order. On one hand, it was what Greagoir had told them to do, and by no means would they go against him. But on the other hand, it seemed wrong. There was no mage in the Tower that required a personal templar to ensure the Tower's safety, and yet here the Grey Warden had two. Not only that, but she was given a room on the templar's floor. It was just too much, and one templar, Chasan, the one who spoke to Lennith her first night back, was the most upset.

"I still don't understand why Greagoir would set such orders," Chasan muttered one night through his helm. "It's just.. _rude_, to put it lightly. I mean, you save Ferelden, and this is how you're repaid?"

With a light sigh, Amell shrugged. "The Chantry and the templars are both paranoid about mages, even more so since the problem last year with Uldred. Combine that, plus the fact there hasn't been a mage Grey Warden to survive a Blight in who knows how long... Well, I can see why they worry. It seems like overkill, but if it lets them sleep at night, so be it. There's no reason for me to tire myself out trying to fight it."

"You are too kind to people," Chasan shook his head. "I would probably fight tooth and nail to get things changed."

A weak smile came to her lips. "After fighting thousands of darkspawn, I'm.. tired of fighting."

Early on in the second week of her stay at the Tower, Lennith found a book she thought Chasan might be interested in. It contained a chapter about how mage Grey Wardens of the past were treated after a Blight. He would see that those mages were treated the same way as her, well, at least those mages stupid enough to return to the Circle Tower. Most, as it turned out, stayed far, far away. The book was ancient, and the mages it spoke of were from centuries past, but tradition, it seemed, didn't go away quite so easily.

Following the curl of the hallway, the smell of cedar once more greeted her nose, and Amell couldn't help but smile. She had gone the entire day without seeing Cullen at his normal post, and truth be told, she was quite bummed, not having at least been able to greet him for the day. As fate would have it though, she would get to see him before heading to bed. Except, he wasn't walking down the hall as she had assumed. He was standing guard outside her room. This... she hadn't prepared for. But, she would try her best.

"Hello, Cullen," she greeted him, immediately putting on her charms. "Where are Chasan and Saevan? I thought it was their turn to guard my room tonight." She paused before him, holding the large tome to her chest. Despite all the fighting she had done during the Blight, it was actually pretty heavy...

Cullen shook his head in response. "The Knight-Commander sent them and a few other templars out to Lake Calenhad."

Nodding, Lennith entered her room and placed the book down on her bed before turning around to stand in the doorway. This was an opportunity she could not miss, but at the same time, she didn't exactly know what to do except play it by ear. "So, Greagoir deemed me safe enough to only have one templar stand guard at my door tonight?" she smiled, chuckling softly.

Again, Cullen shook his head. "No, there just aren't enough templars in the Tower at the moment to post two at your door."

Which meant that whatever was happening down at the Lake must be pretty serious. Her brow furrowed, and she wanted to ask him, but she already knew he wouldn't answer; he was never one to talk about things he felt he didn't have the liberty to discuss. Which meant that she would have to stick to small pleasantries.

"So, how are you?" she asked, leaning her left side against the doorway, opposite from him, and watching him. The movement apparently made him uncomfortable as he shifted just slightly, but it was enough for her to notice he was moving _away_ from her. Whether or not that was good or bad, she wasn't sure.

"Um, I-I'm fine," he replied. His stutter seemed to have returned. The movement was good, then. "H-how are you?"

She smiled, glad he had the courage to at least try and keep the conversation going. "Not too bad myself. It's actually nice to be in the Tower after having been away for so long. Kind of.. makes me feel like just a normal mage again."

"Despite a templar or two outside your door at night?" he muttered.

The comment surprised her. Was he as annoyed by Greagoir's orders as Chasan and some of the other templars? She had honestly expected him to be all right with the order, considering what had happened over a year ago. Quickly pushing aside her stunned bewilderment, she shrugged. "Yes, despite the templars. It's like I told Chasan and Saevan, if it makes everyone happy, makes them feel more comfortable around me, so be it. It isn't as though you guys are standing over my bed while I sleep with a sword at my throat."

After a moment, Cullen muttered something incoherent. Uncertain of what he had exactly said, she tilted her head to the side. "Did you say something?"

"Uh, n-no, nothing," he quickly replied. Well, whatever it was he had said brought the stutter back.

After a moment, when it seemed he wouldn't say anything else and she couldn't think of any more conversation starters, she decided it was time to get some sleep. "Well, I think it's time I try to get some sleep. I'm sorry you have to stand out here all night listening to my snoring."

"N-no, it's alright. If you're snoring, then.. I know you're not.." he trailed off.

'Turning into an abomination' is what she was pretty certain he was going to say. How macabre... "True enough," she smiled, leaning away from the doorway. "Good night, Cullen," she nodded, and without waiting for a reply, she closed the door and curled up in bed.

How could it be that everyone except for herself thought she would turn into an abomination, that there was even a _chance_ of that happening? If it even were going to happen, she figured, it would have happened before the archdemon was slain. It was then that she had the worst nightmares, then that she could feel herself slipping, oh so slightly, whenever she dreamed of the darkspawn. But now that the Blight was ended and the archdemon was slain, she rarely had dreams anymore. Was she really the only one confident enough in her abilities to _know_, on some mental level, that she would not turn? She already knew that in 28 years, give or take, the taint would begin to take her over, that there was nothing she could do about _that_, but she sure as hell could make sure she would never, _ever_ turn into an abomination.

Couldn't she?

_Such depressing thoughts before bed_, she thought, scowling into her pillow.

And it was because of those thoughts that she couldn't sleep. With a growl of annoyance, she threw the blankets off of herself and began pacing about the room, bare feet padding against the freezing cold floor. But she didn't notice the cold, too caught up in her thoughts as she was. Lennith did not like thinking about the darkspawn taint. She did not like thinking about abominations. What mage or Grey Warden in their right mind _would_? The thoughts alone could drive anyone mad, long before the taint even started to. But what if she could do something about both problems? What if.. well, maybe she couldn't do anything about becoming an abomination except stay strong mentally, but.. what if..

It dawned on her that she now had access to all the books and knowledge within the Tower. Unrestrained access. And time. Not only that, but she could travel, freely. Sure, people would recognize and stop here every where she went, but because of _who_ she was, she would have access to books and knowledge elsewhere: Denerim, the Dalish lore keepers and even Orzammar. With all that knowledge and freedom at her fingertips.. Yes. Yes, it _could_ be possible.

With time and knowledge, she could find a cure for the darkspawn taint. It was an insane idea, in and of itself, because surely, others had tried to find a cure before her. But she had a chance, and that _chance_ was all she needed.

A large smile bloomed on her lips, and she found herself chuckling quietly, already forming a plan. As a mage, her mind was the most important thing to her, and she would use her mind to find a way to make sure she _kept_ it. She agreed with herself that it was an insane idea, that it was probably impossible for her to find a cure, but what if? _What if_?

A bark of a laugh left her lips, and she clapped her hands together once.

And then she realized she was _supposed_ to be asleep...

Her laugh had been loud enough to startle Cullen, and he slammed the door open, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He stared at Lennith in confusion.

Biting her lips together, Amell turned to face Cullen, her right eye shut as though she had been hit. "Sorry... I, uh, was just excited about something," she laughed and shrugged.

"I.. I thought.." his amber eyes scanned the room before falling back onto her.

"Nope! No abominations here, ser!"

Removing his hand from the hilt at his back, Cullen stood up straight, watching Amell warily. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" he spoke slowly, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he continued to watch her.

A shiver ran up her spine. She had never noticed it before, but Cullen had the same glint in his eye as Greagoir. She suddenly felt naked in front of him, as if he could see everything inside her. It was downright disturbing, but at the moment, it could not put a damper on her spirits. "I should, yes, but I don't think I can." The grin on her lips threatened to split her mouth apart, and she was finding it harder and harder to contain her glee. She wanted to dance, to spin around and giggle like the child she had been years ago.

"I see..." After a few moments, he shook his head and took a step towards the door. "Well, you should at least try. It's quite late, and I don't think the other templars who _are_ sleeping wish to be woken up by your laughing."

"Sorry, I'll try to be quiet," she snickered, waving as Cullen turned to close the door behind him. Before he could though, Lennith reached out to stop the door from closing, her eyes falling to the floor. "Cullen.. Do you remember... two years ago, how... you told me if I ever wanted to talk, I could come to you?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

He kept his back to her, silent for a few seconds before replying: "I.. yes."

"Does the.. offer still stand?"

A full minute passed, and he had not answered.

"It's just that... Petra is the only friend I have in the Tower. Many of them... well, you remember... And I just, I don't know... It's hard when your one friend is busy with her work, and you don't have anyone else--"

He grunted.

Lifting her head up, she stared at his back. It wasn't exactly a 'yes', but it was most certainly not a 'no'. Amell smiled, and reached out to rest her hand on the armored shoulder that was closest to her. "Thank you," she murmured, before stepped back and closing the door.

She hadn't noticed it, but her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was pretty certain there was a fairly bright red color on her cheeks. Letting her eyes close, she leaned back against the door, her arms coming up, wrists crossing over her chest, her head lowering until her chin was resting on top of them. She hadn't felt this happy in over a year, and it felt _good_.


	6. Chapter 3 Cullen

To my reviewers: Your reviews are loved and appreciated by this author more than you know. While I generally write for myself, I post my stories when I think someone else might enjoy them. I'm glad you guys do. ^^  
To all the Favorites + Alerts: I hope I keep you entertained. =D

ninjamonkey20 – You will indeed find out this chapter, although it might not be as cute or stunning as you hope. XD And I'm glad you like the POV changes. It's a different style for me, and I'm happy it's working out. =D  
AphoticDepths – Thank you very much! I always wonder if my writing style is too strange for people, and I'm glad it's not. ( I replayed from the Alienage on to get my fem Cousland a happy ending with Alistair since the first time I played, the ending was downright depressing. ;-; )  
Amythyst89 – I was planning on updating once every other day, but now I'm aiming for a chapter a day. Hope that's quick enough for you! Lol  
FaeTian – Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. ^^

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_Exigo  
_Chapter Three  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Cullen

Days passed, and during each, Cullen looked forward to two things: seeing Lennith in the hallway at his post and later at night when he dreamed about her. It wasn't every night that he dreamt of her, more so every other night. Those nights that she didn't enter his dreams, he would wake up, saddened that his sleeping mind didn't think of her. But then he realized he would still see her, in person, later in the day when he stood his post. Those nights that she _was_ in his dreams, she would always wear the same dress, sit on the same hill and smile the same smile; it was the same dream, over and over. An innocent dream, but one that made his heart swell when he awoke the next morning.

Part of him wondered if his dreams, his thoughts of her meant he was obsessed. Did men really think and dream about women as much as he did? Was it normal? It was hard for him to say because when had he ever had a normal life? Ever since childhood, he could never call himself, his life, normal. Parents killed, raised to be a templar, locked within a Tower like a mage. He didn't grow up to be a farmer like his father had been. He didn't take over the fields, the animals, the work. _That_ would have been normal. But now? No, Cullen, like many of the templars in the Tower, was far from normal. And he was okay with it.

And so what if he dreamed of her? If she was on his mind as often as she was? It made him happy, didn't it? It didn't mean he would act on his thoughts and dreams. It just meant that his mind was in a good place, that it was no longer stuck reliving the torture he witnessed his friends go through. The reasoning was enough for him.

Once he was up and changed, Cullen left his sleeping quarters to make his way down to breakfast. Before he could make it to the stairs, however, Greagoir called out from his office.

"Cullen? A moment, please."

Turning around, Cullen stepped into Greagoir's office, pausing before his desk. "Yes, Knight-Commander?"

"I will get right to the point," Greagoir nodded, folding his hands behind his back. "There was an incident last night at the docks. It seems there is a maleficar on the loose who has taken to hiding at the inn. As the Tower has the closest group of templars, I was asked to send some to capture and dispose of the blood mage. I sent the four who generally stand watch over the Grey Warden at night, as well as a few others, assuming that the task would be completed quickly. However, it turns out that the maleficar got away before they even made it to the docks. The group must now hunt the blood mage down, and sadly, I do not know how long it will take.

"Because of my own poor judgment, there are now fewer templars in the Tower than I would like. Since you are the senior templar here, I would ask that you take up the job of guarding the Grey Warden's room at night. With such a small group of templars left at the Tower, we do not have enough bodies for two guards, so it will be your sole responsibility to make sure that if something happens to the Grey Warden that you are able to.. take care of her."

Cullen was completely taken aback by the Knight-Commander's words. He was confused as to why he had not been sent to take care of the blood mage. Did Greagoir not believe him capable of killing maleficar? If he didn't, why did he station him outside Lennith's room, as the only templar? Every thought conflicted with the next, and nothing made sense. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if Greagoir actually felt the same way the bulk of the templars felt: that what had been asked by the Chantry wasn't right, that the Grey Warden shouldn't be treated the way she was.

However, those thoughts were completely overshadowed by reality: he, alone, would stand guard outside her room at night. It was.. almost as if a dream had come true. He would be lying if he said he did not regret not volunteering for the orders given to Chasan and the others, because he wholeheartedly did. And now he had his chance.

Nodding, Cullen replied: "I understand."

"Very well. You shall begin your new assignment tonight. In the meantime, you have the rest of the day free to do as you wish, although I do suggest getting a few hours sleep before taking up your new post. Dismissed."

With another nod, Cullen turned and left Greagoir's office.

Was the Maker smiling down on him? No, not the Maker.. fate, perhaps? It was hard for him to believe in the Maker as faithfully as he used to. Because where was the Maker when his friends were tortured in front of his eyes? Where was the Maker when they died horrible, slow deaths? Maybe it was true, maybe He had turned away from His people because they had been haughty enough to try and usurp His Golden Kingdom. But Cullen wasn't one of those people. None of those alive on Thedas were one of those people. So why did they have to pay? It was cruel, it was barbaric, and it made Cullen question his own faith, as he had for the past year. He had always accepted things blindly, that what he was taught was the truth. But he had finally started to see how many differences there were, how many contradictions. And since the end of the Blight, he had finally started to question, he had finally started to think for himself. It didn't exactly make him happy, but it sure as hell calmed his rocky heart and mind to be able to think and act on his own, without being influenced by any one or any thing.

Well, no, that was a lie. No matter how he looked at it, no matter how he tried to change it or say otherwise, Lennith very often influenced what he thought and did. Not that he would openly admit it.

Lennith Amell was a woman, a Grey Warden and a mage. All of her life, she had seen and been taught how magic could cause evil to manifest in the world she lived in. She had been taught over and over that "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him." And yet all of her life she had been spurned, spit upon, hated, simply because of her power to use magic. People feared her, people hated her. And yet the Maker made her, did He not? If that were the case, then He was the one who imbued her with the ability to use magic. That made her, and all mages, special, didn't it? And yet she and all mages were treated as if they were the scum of the world.

Despite all of that, despite the fact that the bulk of the people in Ferelden wouldn't have cared if she dropped dead for being a mage, she became a Grey Warden, and used her powers to save everyone. She didn't have to, but she did it. She nearly sacrificed herself to make certain the world did not end, that the Blight ended. It was then that Cullen realized how selfless she was, how big a heart she must have. It was then that he realized that not all mages were bad. How could they when Lennith did what she did, despite all the reasons she should not have even bothered?

It was because of her that he questioned everything.

Why did the Maker allow it all to happen?

Why were mages treated like garbage?

Why were the templars formed to keep mages in line?

Why was he taught that templars were doing the Maker's will?

...Why was he even still a templar?

He was thoroughly and utterly disgusted with how hypocritical it all seemed, with the templars, with the Chantry, even with the Maker Himself. None of it made sense, and even though everything he was taught warred against the questions he had, he couldn't find an answer. Only one thing was certain: it would take time, a lot of time, for him to sort through it all and form opinions for himself, to find the truth for himself. And he was all right with that. With no prospects outside of being a templar, he would spend his time in the Tower thinking for _himself_, making decisions for _himself_. Was it greedy to think in such a way? Maybe, but Cullen didn't think so.

Pushing the chaos within his mind aside, Cullen eventually made his way down to the dining hall to eat. As Greagoir had said, there weren't many templars left within the Tower, so he wound up eating alone. Not that it bothered him. Very often one or another of them would be up in arms about how the Grey Warden was being treated, and more often than not, questions would turn to him, and he never felt comfortable in answering them.

Without much else to do after eating, Cullen decided to spend some time outside. It had been quite a while since he had any free time, so, he figured, he might as well get some fresh air.

The Circle Tower stood on a small island, of sorts. There was a ring of land around the entirety of the Tower, and most of the time it was left empty. The apprentices weren't allowed out of the Tower, and those that were full fledged mages rarely left to go outside. The only people who actually used the land were the Circle cooks. Around the eastern side of the Tower, there was a garden, one that was fairly large, in fact. It was there that the vegetables and herbs were grown for the mages and templars in the Tower. At the moment, no one was tending the growing plants, and so Cullen sat down beneath a nearby tree, enjoying the earthy smells that drifted from the garden to his nose.

The sun wasn't very far past the horizon, as it was still early in the day, and the air was a bit chilly, but Cullen was quite comfortable in his spot below the tree. He let his mind wander, and it was no surprise that he was soon thinking of her. The more he thought of her, the more he realized he greatly admired her, for her strength and her courage. Part of him also resented her for those same traits. If he had had the strength and courage, then maybe he could have stopped the blood mages, stopped them from killing his-- no. He had done all he could. He knew that then, and he knew it now. Thinking about the "what ifs" wouldn't change any thing.

With a sigh, he shook those thoughts from his head and relaxed. Eventually, he fell asleep and didn't wake up until close to nightfall. Surprised at himself, he made his way back inside, quickly ate and then hurried off to his new post. It wasn't until hours later that Lennith finally made her way down the hallway towards her room.

Lifting his head, he watched her approach, his heart already beginning to beat quicker than normal. He saw her pause for just a split second, as though surprised to see him, but she quickly recovered, smiled, and greeted him.

"Hello, Cullen. Where are Chasan and Saevan? I thought it was their turn to guard my room tonight."

She was standing so close that he could smell her perfume. Lilies? Realizing that she had asked a question, he shook his head. "The Knight-Commander sent them and a few other templars out to Lake Calenhad."

He watched her disappear into her room for a moment before returning to the door. "So, Greagoir deemed me safe enough to only have one templar stand guard at my door tonight?" she smiled, chuckling softly.

Again, she was standing so close to him that for a brief second, all he could concentrate on was the scent lingering about her; it was so entrancing. Eventually, he shook his head a second time, finding the strength to speak coherently: "No, there just aren't enough templars in the Tower at the moment to post two at your door."

The look that crossed her face made him wonder if she were going to press him for more information. He honestly hoped not. On one hand, it wasn't his business to tell anyone what Greagoir had told him, but on the other hand, he didn't think he'd be able to keep his mouth closed if she did ask. Instead, she leaned against the doorway, opposite from him.

"So, how are you?"

She was so close that he could reach out and brush her bangs away from her eyes. Resisting the urge, he shifted slightly, moving just a little bit away from her to make sure he would keep his hands to himself.

"Um, I-I'm fine. H-how are you?" Stupid stutter... How long would it haunt him? Hadn't he seen her enough to talk normally around her?

"Not too bad myself. It's actually nice to be in the Tower after having been away for so long. Kind of.. makes me feel like just a normal mage again," she smiled.

"Despite a templar or two outside your door at night?" he muttered, trying his hardest to speak an entire sentence without stuttering. Again.

"Yes, despite the templars. It's like I told Chasan and Saevan, if it makes everyone happy, makes them feel more comfortable around me, so be it. It isn't as though you guys are standing over my bed while I sleep with a sword at my throat."

"You are too selfless..." he murmured softly, mostly to himself.

"Did you say something?" she asked, her brows furrowed, head tilting to the side.

"Uh, n-no, nothing," he quickly replied. If the stutter were something he could touch, he'd be reaching out now to throttle it. Slowly, his heart returned to a normal beat, and he eventually felt that he could speak full sentences without stuttering again. But she spoke up before he could say anything.

"Well, I think it's time I try to get some sleep. I'm sorry you have to stand out here all night listening to my snoring."

"N-no, it's all right," he shook his head. "If you're snoring, then.. I know you're not.." he trailed off. Yes, that's what she wanted to hear, that he was standing outside her to door to make certain she didn't turn into an abomination, and if she did, he would kill her. It was the wrong thing to say, and he knew it when he saw her eyes darken.

"True enough," she smiled sadly. "Good night, Cullen."

Before he could wish her the same, she had closed the door behind her. He silently cursed himself, at how inept he was at speaking to her like a normal person. The stutter probably made him look like an idiot, but at least his face, neck and ears hadn't been covered in bright red blushes. Sighing softly, he settled into his new post and stood waiting for nothing to happen.

Some hours later, a sharp, loud noise caught Cullen by surprise. Realizing it came from the room behind him, he quickly turned around, his right hand moving to the hilt of his sword, his left slamming the door open. For the briefest of seconds, he thought he would see some grotesque form standing in front of him, but he only saw her, bare foot and standing in the middle of the room.

"Sorry... I, uh, was just excited about something," she laughed and shrugged.

"I.. I thought.." his amber eyes scanned the room before falling back onto her.

"Nope! No abominations here, ser!"

And he had. He thought she had turned into an abomination. He thought that the impossible had occurred. Immediately he was furious with himself. How could he think she of all people would give in? That she would actually turn into an abomination? The chance of it happening was so close to zero that he had believed, from the start, that if any mage was immune to becoming an abomination, it was her. How could his belief in her have faltered so quickly and suddenly? He wanted to hit himself for it.

Removing his hand from the hilt at his back, Cullen stood up straight. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" he spoke slowly, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he continued to watch her. The anger and annoyance at himself translated into his words, but he hated himself so much at that moment, that it was impossible to hide it.

And yet she was smiling as though she didn't even notice it. "I should, yes, but I don't think I can."

"I see..." After a few moments, he shook his head and took a step towards the door, the anger and annoyance already beginning to ebb. He didn't know what else to say except: "Well, you should at least try. It's quite late, and I don't think the other templars who _are_ sleeping wish to be woken up by your laughing." Sometimes he wished he had been brought up a minstrel instead of a templar; maybe then he would be _good_ with words.

"Sorry, I'll try to be quiet," she snickered, waving as he turned to leave. Before he could close the door, her hand shot out to stop him. "Cullen.. Do you remember... two years ago, how... you told me if I ever wanted to talk, I could come to you?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

Of course he remembered, how could he not? "I.. yes."

"Does the.. offer still stand?"

Of course the offer still stood. He wanted her to come talk to him, he wanted to spend hours just talking with her, enjoying her presence, basking in her smiles, feeling her laughs. If she was sad, he wanted her to pour her sorrows onto him, so that he could carry her pain. He wanted to be a pillar of strength for her, someone she could trust, someone she could count on, someone she could lean on for support. Yet how could he convey that to her without sounding.. stupid?

She spoke up: "It's just that... Petra is the only friend I have in the Tower. Many of them... well, you remember... And I just, I don't know... It's hard when your one friend is busy with her work, and you don't have anyone else--"

He grunted. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't trust himself with words, not at that moment. He just.. hoped she could understand what he meant. He also hoped she couldn't see the mixed emotions in his eyes. And then he felt a slight pressure at his shoulder.

"Thank you," she murmured, before he heard the door close.

Despite the thickness of his armor, despite the distance between where she had touched his armor and where his shoulder was actually located, it felt as though his skin were on fire. But it didn't hurt.

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**A/N**: The location of the story will be changing eventually, as I'm sure you guys figured that out by now, but I've kept the location of the current chapter up near the top just for the heck of it.

I started laying out the lines for Cullen's past in this chapter, but it won't be for quite a while that it's fully explained.


	7. Chapter 4 Lennith

**A/N:** Underneath POV in the heading, I wrote down the song that I feel fits with this chapter. Well, fits with the more.. emotional parts. I do recommend listening to it, but it isn't needed, of course. It can be found on and the like, so it's not hard to find. I put two little notations in the chapter where I feel they fit the best.

Quick note on the song itself: for those that don't know the genre, it's symphonic metal. The song, in general, may seem a bit too "hard" for the sections I've marked, but it's predominantly the "symphonic instruments" (piano, violins, cellos) and the lyrics that just screamed at me: "This is perfect."

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_Exigo  
_Chapter Four  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Lennith  
Song: Delain / "April Rain"

Weeks at the Circle Tower continued to pass pleasantly. Amell had a simple routine set up, and she enjoyed it thoroughly, spending time with Petra, working on her research, playing with her Mabari, and what she enjoyed the most, talking with Cullen at night. Well, if it could be called that.

At night, when Lennith returned to her room, she would always say a few things to Cullen, ask him a question or two, then slip into bed and fall asleep. True, most of their "talks" were one-sided, with Cullen saying as few words as possible, but it was most assuredly anything but uncomfortable. His stuttering had faded yet again, and he would very rarely turn around to look at her, but he still stood at his post, always at attention, yet somehow emanating an aura of comfort.

Those nights that Lennith didn't feel very tired, she would often stay up reading. The room that she was staying in had a desk and chair, and eventually, she decided to do a little rearranging of the furniture. She pushed the desk to the opposite wall so that it was right next to the door, and when she sat down, if she simply turned her head, she could see Cullen standing right outside her room, diagonal from her. He never commented on it, or questioned, simply kept to his post while Lennith read at the desk. The silence between them was comfortable, and she never felt a need to fill it with speech. Certainly, every so often, she would glance up and look at him, but he was always staring off into the hallway.

It turned out that many of the books in the Circle library were on darkspawn, the taint of their blood and the Grey Wardens. It surprised her because she had assumed the bulk of the books were on magic, history and the Chantry, at least those were the ones she had always seen the most of, the ones she would often read. One book in particular interested Amell, because out of everything else she read, it seemed to have the most information about the darkspawn taint. She was reading a passage about why some people did not contract the taint after battling a darkspawn, despite being covered in the darkspawn's blood....

"What are you researching?"

Cullen's sudden question startled her, and she quickly looked up to find him looking down at the book she was reading. Her heart was pounding heavily from being startled. It took a moment for her to catch her breath. "Who says I'm researching? I could just be reading for pleasure, you know," she smiled once her heart had calmed.

Tilting his head to the side, Cullen moved his gaze to the stack of vellums at Amell's right side. Each were filled with the notes she had taken from all the books she had read thus far. "Hrm." His gaze shifted again, to the writing utensil in her hand as well as the vellum unrolled before her.

She followed his gaze before shrugging. Inwardly, she was happily surprised to see he had been paying attention. Sometimes she had wondered if he just stared off into space, ignoring her until something happened. "I've been reading about darkspawn and the taint of their blood. Duncan.. the man that conscripted me, never had the chance to explain everything to me. And although there is a lot of information not in these books, I just wanted to see what was, and what new information I could find."

"Why?"

His question took her completely off guard. She had expected him to nod and turn back to the hallway, not ask more questions. Biting her bottom lip, she looked down at the book before her, collecting her thoughts and trying to find a way to answer him.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I-I was only curious," he spoke softly.

The stutter. She couldn't help but laugh. "No, it's not that. It's just... There are many secrets that I can't tell anyone, about the Grey Wardens, so.. I'm trying to find a way to explain it without letting some things slip." Sighing, she leaned back in the chair and looked up to find him watching her. The glint was there, the piercing gaze that could see under her skin, but it didn't unnerve her. "How to put it.." she murmured, folding her arms behind her head and trying to find a way to explain things so it made sense. "Grey Wardens... are... exposed to so much darkspawn blood... but, the taint doesn't affect us immediately. It does, however, down the road. I pretty much know when and how I'm going to die..." _and it is not pleasant_... she thought. "I'm just... trying to find out if there's a way to.. change that."

She watched his eyes soften, a pained expression cross his face before he quickly reeled in his feelings. "A cure, so to speak?"

Again, he startled her. She knew Cullen was intelligent, one had to be, to be a templar, but she didn't realize how quick witted he was. Perhaps she never noticed because he had always been so uncomfortable around her. Or perhaps she had been around Alistair too much in the past. "Yes," she nodded, "a cure. Although, most, if not all, Grey Wardens would call me insane, to even _think_ that one _might_ exist."

For a few moments, Cullen watched her, his eyes shifting ever so minutely as they gazed over her features. Eventually, he nodded. "If it's possible, you will find it. I'm almost certain of that."

Those small words of assurance bolstered her determination in a way she could not describe. From those words alone, she could feel, almost touch, how much belief he had in her. It was strange that someone, especially a templar, would believe in her more than she believed in herself, because certainly, in the back of her mind, she always thought that all she was doing would be for naught. Grey Wardens had been around for centuries. What made her think she, of all people, would find a cure that no one else could find? Well, everyone did always comment about her confidence... And for the hundredth time since returning to the Tower, for the hundredth time since the Blight had ended, she smiled. "Thank you," she murmured quietly. "It means a lot to me." She watched him nod before returning his attention to the hallway. She turned back to the book before her.

An hour passed in silence, and when Lennith felt her eyes begin to ache from all the reading she had been doing, she rubbed them before leaning back in her chair, a sigh passing her lips. She stared at Cullen's back for a while, the templar barely moving where he stood. Having been so caught up with spending time with Cullen, she finally realized that he had been the only templar to stand guard outside of her room for almost the entire month. She was happy about it, certainly, but, if that were the case, then the other templars had not returned. And strangely, there were no rumors going around the Tower...

"Hey, Cullen?" she spoke up.

"Hm?" He turned his head just slightly to look at her over his shoulder.

"The other templars that were sent to the Lake. Why aren't they back yet?"

"I.. don't know. The Knight-Commander hasn't told me anything."

She frowned. "Do you know why so many were sent across the Lake?"

"I.." he sighed, turning his head away from her to look back into the hallway. She assumed he was trying to find a way to explain it to her, or if he _should_. "All I know.." he started slowly, piecing the words together, "is that they were sent to kill a maleficar that had reportedly come to the docks. I know that he evaded them, so they had to chase after him. Since they haven't returned, I can only assume they haven't caught up to the maleficar yet."

Nodding, she closed the book she was reading and stood up. "Well, I hope they're all right. I am glad, however, that you're the one standing guard outside my room."

He didn't reply, but he did tense up, and she was pretty certain she could see his ears turn a light shade of pink. "It-it's nothing.." he eventually replied, suddenly having become quite interested in a spot on the wall directly across from him.

Lennith smiled to herself. It was surprising, to see a man stutter and blush because of something she said. Certainly, it was something that happened often with Alistair, but that was only when she made a few sexual innuendos. How could she not, when he made comments about lamp posts? Either way, it wasn't something she was used to, and deny it though she may, it felt pretty good. Despite the power she might have over him (what else could it be that she could simply say a word and cause him to blush), she knew that if the tables were turned, she would be the one to blush. And although it may never happen because Cullen was Cullen and Lennith was Lennith, it was a nice thought.

(D:AR)

Despite the blush, despite his stuttering, despite being so shy, Lennith could feel how strong he was, physically and emotionally. Much of it must have had to do with what happened a year ago near the Harrowing Chamber, and she was glad that rather than break him, it made him stronger. It was that strength that made her all the more attracted to him, more so than in the past.

"I feel very comfortable around you, you know," she started slipping out from behind the desk and moving up behind him. "Like I could tell you anything." She turned around and leaned backwards into him, her back to his. As she had expected, he still stood straight, as though her weight leaning against him were nothing. Since she probably weighed less than his armor, he probably didn't even notice it. "And safe... very, very safe.." she murmured, so softly it came out as a whisper, and she didn't know if he could hear her or not. With a sigh, she wrapped her arms around herself and let her head lean towards her chest, inhaling deeply and enjoying the scent of cedar that seemed to hover around him.

"I'm sorry," he spoke up eventually.

Despite the cold of his armor at her back, she had nearly fallen asleep leaning against him. "Hm?"

"Those things I said to you, the last time you were in the Tower... I had been tortured... I had come to hate mages, all mages, whether they were blood mages or not... I thought that destroying all of them would make everything better again, that it would avenge the deaths of all of my friends... but in the back of my mind, I knew it wasn't true... I knew that not all mages were evil... especially when there was one who would give her life, her very existence, to save the entire world..."

He spoke softly and slowly, and she could tell it had taken a lot for him to admit it all to her. Outside of the time he was in the grips of insanity, caught inside Uldred's prison, it was the most he had ever spoken to her. The pain in his voice was so thick it was almost tangible, and it hurt her just listening to him. She wanted to turn around and hug him, to kiss away his pain, his horrible memories. She had done the same for her comrades during the Blight, what would it matter if she did it for one more person, if she shouldered his burdens as well? She wanted to tell him as much, but she didn't know how.

"So, yes," he spoke up again after a few minutes. "Unless you... turn... you should feel safe near me, for I wish to protect the one who so selflessly saved this world of ours."

And for the first time since she had been a child, since she vowed to never cry again, tears came to her eyes, her emotions running so rampant that there was no release of them except through tears. After all those years, she had been the one to listen to people, to give advice, to protect them. She had been the one to save the world from the darkspawn, to protect Ferelden from the Blight. She was the one people came to for advice, the one people spoke to to ease their minds and feelings, she had been the one people viewed as a beacon of light and hope.

Despite all that, she had never had a person she could turn to for all of those reasons. She never had someone to listen to her, for she always did the listening, no one to get advice from, for she was the one giving it, no one to ease her mind, her heart, her feelings, no one to be her beacon. Who protected her from the darkspawn? Who protected her heart? No one ever had. No one had ever offered, and she had been so busy staying strong for every one else, that she hadn't given herself a second thought. And yet here was Cullen, offering all of it.

Perhaps saving the world by putting all her needs and wants on a back burner had been the right decision, because if just one person could change so much just by seeing her actions... then it was all worth it. Every single moment, every single decision, every single hardship... it was all worth it. His words meant more than anyone's gratitude, more than every 'thank you' she ever received.

And even if things never changed between them, even if, by some random act, she would never see him again, it was all worth it.

She was the Grey Warden, and she happily embraced whatever else might come at her.

* * *

Another week passed, and things remained the same. Although she should have been happy beyond belief, Lennith began to worry about Chasan and the other templars. Since she was certain it took a lot for Cullen to admit about the maleficar, she didn't want to tell Petra anything, which left only Cullen to discuss it with. He didn't see any problems, since Greagoir hadn't mentioned anything, but she worried nonetheless.

"I'm going to talk to Greagoir about it in the morning," Amell spoke up one night.

Cullen just shook his head. "Why? They're out hunting a maleficar. No bad news has returned to us. Why are you so worried?"

"Wouldn't they at least be sending updates as to their progress?" Cullen nodded. "And wouldn't Greagoir share that with you, so you know how much longer you'd have to guard me at night?" That gave Cullen pause.

"He might.. and he might not. The Knight-Commander doesn't always share things with me."

"Either way, _I'm_ worried about them. You may find it weird, but they were starting to become my friends."

For a few moments, Cullen watched her. Eventually he shook his head and muttered, "I never should have told you anything... If Greagoir finds out I told you, he won't be happy."

"Oh, don't worry," she grinned, snapping the book in front of her shut. "Throughout my travels as a Grey Warden, I've learned to lie _very_ well. It's almost second nature to me now, as sad as that is to say. So, it won't be hard for me to ask Greagoir what's going on and, at the same time, make certain he doesn't suspect you told me anything."

Cullen just sighed and shook his head.

The next morning, after breakfast, Lennith made her way towards Greagoir's office. She wasn't exactly looking forward to speaking with him, but there was no other way for her to find out about Chasan and the others, and until she knew what was going on, she would just continue to worry. By pure luck, Greagoir was in his office. She reached out and knocked on the open door.

"Ah, I'm surprised it's taken you so long to come find me," he spoke, motioning for her to enter.

It was hard not to roll her eyes. Did he truly enjoy getting a rise out of mages so much? Maybe it was just her, since it was partially her fault Jowan had gotten away those years ago. Rather than comment, she shook her head and stood before his desk. "That isn't exactly what I came to speak to you about," she replied, well aware he was referring to her night time guards.

"Oh? And what seems to be the problem?" Sitting down in his chair, Greagoir leaned his elbows on the desktop and entwined his fingers together, his gaze settling upon her. There it was, that glint that shook her to her very core. Did it come natural to him, or did he have to practice to get so good at making mages feel as though the ground were going to fall out from under them?

Pushing the thoughts aside, she came right out and asked: "The templars who were first assigned to stand guard at my door at night, Chasan and the others, where are they?"

"They are out fulfilling orders I have given them."

So they were going to dance around the subject. Fine with her; she knew the steps, for Irving had taught her well. "Which either means they are chasing after an apostate or maleficar," she stated, arms crossing over her chest. "And since templars from this Tower were sent, it would mean that the person was close by, probably near the Lake, am I correct?"

Greagoir's eyes narrowed, as though trying to figure out how she figured things out. "It seems you are much smarter than I had given you credit for."

"Yes, well, you know, it doesn't just take brute strength to gather an army, save thousands of people, slay the archdemon and save all of Ferelden," she sighed, this time actually rolling her eyes in annoyance. _Yes, thank you for basically stating that at some point you thought I was an idiot_, she thought sourly. But her intelligence was not the subject of discussion. With another sigh, she continued: "Assuming I am correct, they should have been back by now, no?"

"Yes, they should have, however," Greagoir paused, leaning back in his chair to reach into the top draw of his desk and pull out a small stack of papers. Correspondence. "It would appear that the maleficar they are chasing has been giving them a hard time. Each time they were about to capture him, he got away. They did, however, finally catch him on a road leading to Denerim. Although their orders were to kill the blood mage once captured, they apprehended him so close to Denerim that they took him to the templars there. I have given them leave to rest there for a few days, after which they shall return to the Tower."

"Oh." Her hands fell to her sides. So Cullen had been right; it was nothing to worry about, after all. Didn't she feel stupid? "Well, forgive me for jumping to conclusions. I was only worried about them as no one told me anything about why all four of them disappeared from the Tower."

"I admit I am surprised you would be worried about the well being of a templar," he replied, returning the papers to his desk.

Promptly, her eyes narrowed, and her normally long fuse seemed dangerously short. "Despite the fact that they are templars who were assigned to guard my room every night to make certain that the Grey Warden did not turn into an abomination after having saved Ferelden, yes, I was concerned for their well being because they are humans, men, in fact, _before_ they are templars, and I have come to see them as my friends." She spoke quickly, and all in one breath, her eyes narrowing further each second. Lennith did not like being clumped together under the assumption that all mages hated templars. In truth, she had not found a templar she hated, although Greagoir was now close to becoming the first, first questioning her intelligence, then stereotyping her.

"You continue to surprise me, Grey Warden," he spoke up after a moment, his eyes softening. "Despite your young age, you are wiser than most that are older than you."

It was a compliment. One riddled with various warnings and undertones, but it was a complement nonetheless. Lennith was whole-heartedly surprised at it, and the look of paternal care and sadness upon his face. For the first time, he actually looked and acted his age. It was strange, it took her off-guard, and she had no clue what to think of it. It took her a while to respond: "Thank you, Knight-Commander..."

Like the toss of a coin, his face returned to its youthful, hardened look, and he stood up. "Well, I hate to be rude, but unless there is something else, I do have some business I must attend to."

With a nod, Amell turned and left his office to make her way to the library. It took quite a while for the effects of their conversation to wear off, and she was surprised it had effected her so much. Never before had a templar gotten under her skin like that, not even when she was younger and all she got from them were dire warnings. Templars should have scared her then, but they never did. She had always found them to be nothing more than big, metal dolls, dressed up in their fancy armor and following commands without a question. Marionettes. Silly, faithful, pious marionettes.

Once reaching the library, the entire encounter left her mind, and Lennith quickly lost herself in the book stacks, searching for new books to read, more material to research. Some time after she sat down at one of the empty tables, her Mabari bounded into the room, having spent the bulk of the past few days playing with the apprentices. The young boys and girls found him adorable, and her Mabari quickly took a liking to them because often they would sneak him snacks and pet him. Apparently exhausted from a day of playing, the war dog flopped down at her feet and promptly nodded off to sleep. With a laugh, Lennith pat his head once before burying herself in her research.

It wasn't until much later at night that she and her Mabari returned to her sleeping quarters. The dog ran into the room, launched himself into the air, landed on her bed and curled up under the blankets. He was a sucker for soft things. Once depositing the book she was carrying with her on her desk, she turned to Cullen and told him about her conversation with Greagoir.

"I told you it wasn't anything to worry about," he said.

"Yes, well, just rub that in my face, why don't you?" she pouted. Yes, she would admit it, she hated being wrong. With a shrug, she sat down at her desk and opened up the large tome to the spot she had bookmarked. "Although I'm happy that they're alright, and they'll be home soon, I just... almost wish they'd be gone for much, much longer," she admitted.

Turning his head to look at her, Cullen raised an eyebrow in question.

Lennith shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "When they return, I'm sure they will be the ones taking up post outside my door instead of you. And even though I have come to look upon them as friends, I would much rather it were you standing outside my door, instead of them..."

"They may not return for another week or two," Cullen murmured quietly, turning completely to face her.

"Yes, and they could be back tomorrow for all we know." Sighing, she folded her arms in front of her on the desk and rested the side of her head against them. "And it's not as if I could go up to Greagoir and ask him to only assign you as my guard, because that certainly wouldn't seem scandalous at all."

"Well, I'm sure Greagoir would return me to my post in the hallway."

(D:AR)

"And if I ever stopped to talk to you there, aside from a greeting, rumors would start flying about this place in a heartbeat, you know that as well as I." She sighed again. "I should be utterly furious that Greagoir insists on having one or two templars standing outside my door every night, but I'm not, especially since you're one of those templars. It just feels like I'm going to lose a friend when they return, and I've lost enough. I don't want _another_ piece of my heart to break away. I don't know how much of it is even left..."

With a groan, she turned her head to bury it in her arms. Every hard decision she had to make, every painful choice on her journey to end the Blight, she had felt bits and pieces of her heart break away and crumble. She had gotten used to hiding it because, hell, it's what she did; she had to stay strong for every one. But now.. now that the Blight was over, now that no one expected anything from her except for a smile and hello, she could feel how small her heart was. It was as though all the pain she had pushed from her mind was now beginning to creep back because it had the chance to. Lennith did not like it one bit.

Although used to having her feelings and her wants put on a back burner for the greater good, for once she wanted to be greedy. She didn't want Chasan and the others coming back any time soon because that meant she would barely ever get to speak to Cullen again. She wanted to make sure that what was left of her heart would stay put, that she wouldn't lose anymore of it. But she had no idea how to do that.

The clink of metal on stone caught her ear, and she lifted her head to see him standing before her. She blinked a few times, ridding her eyes of the tears that had attempted to slip away, and found him looking into her eyes as though searching for something. Completely tongue-tied and at a loss for words, she just looked back at him, her heart beginning to thump so loudly she could swear it would burst from her chest. He had never been this close to her, at least he had never _moved_ this close to her, and her body was reacting to it.

"Then I shall have to protect your heart as well," he murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Her eyes closed again, and the warmth from his lips spread throughout her entire body. It was such a simple gesture, but it washed all the sorrow and pain away. It made her forget about everything that bothered her, made her forget about all the burdens she had been carrying for years, the pain she had caused, the pain she had felt. It was as though none of it ever existed.

When he leaned away, she murmured: "That shouldn't be too hard. I think there are only a few crumbs of it left." Although joking, she smiled sadly.

"Doubtful," he smiled in turn. " A person who dedicated the past few years of her life to protect the world must have the biggest heart in the world. I'm surprised it hasn't burst from your chest yet."

She tilted her head up to look at him, the right corner of her lips curling upwards in a smirk. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, so many questions to ask, but instead, when she opened her mouth...

"Why do you smell like cedar?"

Cullen stared at her as though she had two heads. "...What?"

It.. wasn't exactly what she had planned to say or ask, but it just fell from her lips. The smell of cedar had been so strong when he had been so close to her, it was the first thing that forced its way to the front of her mind. "Like.. do you use some Orlesian oil, or cologne? Every time you're nearby, you smell like wood, like cedar."

He blinked a few times, an eyebrow raising. "No.. I don't.. Are you saying I smell bad?"

"No, no!" she laughed at the almost horrified look on his face. "I _like_ how you smell. I've always been curious.. Every time I get near you, I can smell wood, I'm pretty sure it's cedar, I could be wrong, but.. I don't know, I've always wondered."

"You.. are a very strange woman," he stated.

"Yes.. I do get that sometimes," she muttered, wondering if Alistair rubbed off on her more than she had assumed. With a 'hmph', she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I may be strange, but at least I don't smell like a _tree_," she stuck her tongue out at him. There were times she could be quite childish, it seemed...

"No, you smell like lilies," he replied, before turning around and returning to his post outside her door.

Lennith stared at him for a moment. Raising an eyebrow, she lifted a piece of her hair off of her shoulder and sniffed it. She didn't _smell_ anything... And how in the world would he know what lilies smelled like? Roses, sure – almost anyone knew what a rose smelled like, but lilies? Those were a much rarer flower. Would he never cease to surprise her?

* * *

**A/N:** Well, despite my attempts at a chapter a day, it seems it will be another day or two for the next chapter. Silly me didn't realize how close to the holidays it already is, and I have a lot to do before then. The next chapter will come soon enough. XD


	8. Chapter 4 Cullen

_Exigo  
_Chapter Four  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Cullen

Aside from the times he had to give the Knight-Commander a report, or respond to a question or two, it was never really necessary for Cullen to say anything. He would nod, give short responses, and that was fine with him, especially for the past two years when he had nothing _**to**_ say. Talking to a woman, however, was much, much harder, especially when said woman was one he found himself attracted to. Add to the fact it was someone he shouldn't be attracted to and was basically forbidden from all contact with her except for small pleasantries, well, it was difficult. But slowly, as the month progressed, Cullen found himself more and more comfortable around Lennith. Very often, he would forget that he shouldn't be talking to her as much as he did, but while he would very rarely start a conversation, he would gladly answer any questions she asked him. Perhaps he should be upset at himself. Perhaps he should start praying in the chapel again, to ask for forgiveness. Perhaps he should tell Greagoir, and have his position changed with another templar. But he wasn't, he wouldn't and he wasn't going to. He already questioned why he was still a templar, that coupled with being the only one to survive the blood mage attack, he figured he was already going to hell, if one even existed. While he figured his ending would be miserable, at least he'd enjoy what he had when he had it.

It was curious when Lennith moved the desk closer to the door, how she would sit back in the chair and turn her head just slightly to glance at him and smile. With how often she did it, he assumed she didn't even know he noticed, but he did, and every time it made his knees weak and his chest feel as though it were on fire. Every night, from the corner of his eye, he would watch her huddle over large tomes and every so often scribble something down on the vellum before her. The pile of notes, as he assumed that's what they were, grew steadily until Lennith had a fairly large pile of them beside her on the floor. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about what was on them, and eventually, he asked: "What are you researching?"

Her eyes were large when she quickly leaned back in her chair and looked up at him. He had startled her, then. Inwardly, he winced, not having exactly planned for that, but after a moment, she smiled: "Who says I'm researching? I could just be reading for pleasure, you know."

Cullen may not exactly be a fan of reading, having been forced to read a certain selection of moldy old tomes when he was training to become a templar, and thus, pretty much hating books ever since, but he was no fool. He had often seen her point at something in the many tomes, use a finger to mark it off, nod, mumble something or other to herself that he couldn't hear, then write something down on the vellum before her, very often glancing back to the passage she had marked with her finger. "Hrm." Tilting his head to the side, he pointedly glanced at the stack of vellum beside her, the one before her, and the pen in her hand.

She followed his gaze before shrugging, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "I've been reading about darkspawn and the taint of their blood. Duncan.. the man that conscripted me, never had the chance to explain everything to me. And although there is a lot of information not in these books, I just wanted to see what was, and what new information I could find."

"Why?" he promptly asked. He found what she was doing strange, especially when, as he had heard, there were plenty of Orlesian Grey Wardens at that fortress to the north. Soldier's Peak or something? Couldn't she just ask them? He watched her bite her bottom lip, pausing as though his question was not something she wanted to answer. He immediately felt bad for prodding into something that seemed personal. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I-I was only curious," he spoke softly, mentally hitting himself. Stutter... Hadn't he gotten rid of it yet?

She laughed and shook her head. "No, it's not that. It's just... There are many secrets that I can't tell anyone, about the Grey Wardens, so.. I'm trying to find a way to explain it without letting some things slip." Sighing, she leaned back in the chair and looked up at him. "How to put it.." she murmured, folding her arms behind her head. "Grey Wardens... are... exposed to so much darkspawn blood... but, the taint doesn't affect us immediately. It does, however, down the road. I pretty much know when and how I'm going to die.. I'm just... trying to find out if there's a way to.. change that."

When and how she was going to die... Could there be anything more horrible in the world? There would only be two choices: give up and wait for it to happen, or do something about it. He was not surprised that she chose the latter. She had always been so confident in herself and her abilities after all. He could see the sadness in her eyes, and knew that his probably mirrored the same. Although he had not yet told her, he wanted to protect her from all the sad and depressing things she may think about, and once registering the sadness in her eyes, he pulled his feelings back in and hardened his gaze; he would be strong for her, and perhaps she would take some of that strength for herself to fight away her inner demons.

"A cure, so to speak?" he asked.

Again, her eyes widened. Whether she realized it or not, Cullen was quite observant. It wasn't exactly hard to put two and two together; how else would she change what was going to happen to her unless she found a cure?

"Yes," she nodded, "a cure. Although, most, if not all, Grey Wardens would call me insane, to even _think_ that one _might_ exist."

_It would be more insane to sit still and wait for death to claim you_, he thought. He had done that, after all, while sitting in Uldred's prison. He had fought it, at first, he had stayed strong for his friends. But eventually, he could feel his own sanity leave him, and he just wanted to wait for death to take him. Had she and her friends not shown up when they did, he probably _would_ have lost it. Mentally pushing such morbid things of the past out of his mind, he looked at her, glancing over her face, to see if the sadness was gone. It was, for the most part, and he nodded, mostly to himself, to affirm that indeed, she had gleaned some of his strength for herself.

"If it's possible, you will find it. I'm almost certain of that." He wholeheartedly believed that. Not just because he hoped it would eventually happen, but because he knew how smart she was, how strong she could be. She had saved the world, had she not? Finding a cure must be much, much easier, after all.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly, a smile gracing her lips. "It means a lot to me."

He glanced over her face again, making sure that all the sadness was gone before he nodded and turned back to look out into the hall; he didn't exactly know what else to say to her, after all. When had he been good with words? Aside from what he had just said to her, never. Perhaps, though, he would be able to learn from her. Perhaps, he would lend her his strength and in turn, he would borrow her confidence.

Cullen settled back into his post, and the soft creak of wood that told him she had leaned back over her book and continued her research reached his ears. After a few moments, he glanced down the hall, left and right, and once seeing absolutely nothing of interest, he relaxed a bit. Normally, night in the Tower was quite boring; everyone who was not on duty was already fast asleep. And since there were quite a few less templars in the Tower than normal, the activity on the templar's floor died out early on in the evening. Not once, in his entire month outside Lennith's room, had someone passed him. It was during those times, when Lennith was busy with her research, that Cullen allowed his mind to wander. Normally, he didn't have time to think or let his mind wander as his normal post on the second floor was always bustling with activity, and he was always keeping watch, despite knowing that nothing was going to happen.

Those times he could allow himself to relax and think about things other than his post, Cullen would let his mind swim with all the unanswered questions he had gathered over the last year. He never had an answer for himself, but it was still calming to realize that he _could_ think about those things, that he _could_ find an answer for himself. Very often though, he would wonder why he was still a templar. The oaths he had taken, the things he had learned, he no longer took it all in stride; he questioned all of it. There were times he would consider just.. leaving, but he knew that wouldn't go over well. He'd probably be hunted down like an apostate and forcefully returned to the Tower. But even so, even if he did get away, even if he shrugged off the templar mantle, then what? He had no family to go to, no money to start a new life, no where to go. He would be free though, free to do whatever he wanted, free to pursue his childish dreams, the hobby he had always hoped to one day learn more about. But no. Not only would it be impossible, but Lennith was still in the Tower, and while he could, he wanted to be near her.

"Hey, Cullen?" Lennith spoke up.

"Hm?" Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned his head just slightly to look at her over his shoulder to find her looking up at him. Yes, just being able to see her as he did.. it was worth living a life he thought should have ended, it was worth doing a job that seemed worthless.

"The other templars that were sent to the Lake. Why aren't they back yet?"

That took him completely off guard. "I.. don't know. The Knight-Commander hasn't told me anything." Why would she be thinking about them? For a split second, he was jealous, but he promptly shook such silly and trivial thoughts from his mind. What was there to be jealous about? Lennith didn't belong to him, she didn't belong to anyone. She was free to do and think whatever she wanted. And... even if she was interested in another of his fellow templars, well, what would he say about it? What would anyone say about it? It wasn't as if anything would come from it.

She frowned. "Do you know why so many were sent across the Lake?"

"I.." he sighed, turning his head away from her to look back into the hallway. So she was worried about their well-being. Of course. That seemed so like her, to worry about everyone and everything. But, she had asked, and he knew that if she ever did, he would answer her. "All I know.." he started slowly, piecing the words together, "is that they were sent to kill a maleficar that had reportedly come to the docks. I know that he evaded them, so they had to chase after him. Since they haven't returned, I can only assume they haven't caught up to the maleficar yet."

_Or_, he thought, now that she had inadvertently planted a seed of doubt in his mind, _something has happened to them. Maker--_ no. No more praying to the Maker, at least not now.

Nodding, she closed the book she was reading and stood up. "Well, I hope they're all right. I am glad, however, that you're the one standing guard outside my room."

Every muscle in his body promptly tensed up, and fight it though he might, he could feel his ears warm up and turn color. "It-it's nothing.." he eventually replied, determined not to turn around and look at her, determined to stare at the wall in front of him. She was.. happy that he was guarding her, that Greagoir had set him outside her door to make sure nothing unholy happened. Were the tables turned, he was certain he would be furious. But why was she happy? Did she really enjoy his presence that much? His mind quickly jumped between conclusions, and he had no idea which one was the right one.

"I feel very comfortable around you, you know," she spoke, and he could hear her chair be pushed back and the soft padding of her boot covered feet move up behind him. "Like I could tell you anything."

There was a slight pressure at his back, almost unnoticeable, but his mind quickly realized she was leaning against him. And immediately the world changed. Cullen felt the stutter and the blush leave him as a blanket of peace and tranquility was gently placed over him. Suddenly, the world seemed so bright, so halcyonic, so... _right_. Normally, he knew, his heart would be pounding, threatening to burst from his chest, but it wasn't. His heartbeat was normal, his body composed. Was this why she had so many people follow her to defeat the Blight? This aura of love, comfort and strength that seemed to seep from her skin and effect everything? Or was it only because of how he felt about her? Because of the admiration he had for her?

"And safe... very, very safe.." she murmured softly.

For the first time, Cullen knew exactly what to say. Words were beginning to flood into his mouth, and it took a moment to put them in order, to make them make sense so she could understand. "I'm sorry," he spoke quietly. "Those things I said to you, the last time you were in the Tower... I had been tortured... I had come to hate mages, all mages, whether they were blood mages or not... I thought that destroying all of them would make everything better again, that it would avenge the deaths of all of my friends... but in the back of my mind, I knew it wasn't true... I knew that not all mages were evil... especially when there was one who would give her life, her very existence, to save the entire world..."

He gave her a few moments to digest what he had said before speaking up again. "So, yes. Unless you... turn... you should feel safe near me, for I wish to protect the one who so selflessly saved this world of ours."

And it was the truth. He vowed, right then and there, that he would protect her to the best of his ability. He would fight away the pain, the sorrow, anything that would make her unhappy. Were something to happen to her, he would throw himself before her, give his life for her's. It was, in fact, the least he could do after all she had done for him. She made him see, she made him realize, she made him question, she made him happy, she made him want to _**live**_ again. And should the impossible happen, should she, by some freak occurrence, turn into an abomination, he would strike her down. Not because he was a templar, but because he was her friend. As her friend, he knew, without her saying as such, that she would rather be dead than live as an abomination.

Because that is what he was: her friend. He wasn't the templar standing guard outside her room, he wasn't the sword of righteousness that watched her every move. He was her friend. And even should such a thing be considered forbidden... well, what did he care?

* * *

Another week passed before Lennith brought up Chasan and the other templars again. "I'm going to talk to Greagoir about it in the morning," she spoke up one night.

Cullen just shook his head, not exactly seeing a point to it. "Why? They're out hunting a maleficar. No bad news has returned to us. Why are you so worried?"

"Wouldn't they at least be sending updates as to their progress?"

Cullen nodded. Of course they would. He was certain that if the other templars had _not_ sent some sort of correspondence to the Tower, then Greagoir would have told him something.

"And wouldn't Greagoir share that with you, so you know how much longer you'd have to guard me at night?"

That gave Cullen pause. _Would_ Greagoir keep him updated? Or did he not want Cullen to think or worry about it since he had been given a supposedly important job of making sure the Warden didn't turn? "He might.. and he might not. The Knight-Commander doesn't always share things with me."

"Either way, _I'm_ worried about them. You may find it weird, but they were starting to become my friends."

For a few moments, Cullen watched her. Eventually he shook his head and muttered, "I never should have told you anything... If Greagoir finds out I told you, he won't be happy." _And he would probably put another templar in my place to watch you at night,_ he thought sourly. But, he knew he would tell her anything she asked him, so he only had himself to blame.

"Oh, don't worry," she grinned, snapping the book in front of her shut. "Throughout my travels as a Grey Warden, I've learned to lie _very_ well. It's almost second nature to me now, as sad as that is to say. So, it won't be hard for me to ask Greagoir what's going on and, at the same time, make certain he doesn't suspect you told me anything."

He just sighed and shook his head. He really hoped that big heart of her's wouldn't get them in trouble...

As usual, the next morning, when Lennith woke up and headed down to breakfast, Cullen made his way down the hallway to the training room. Over the past month, he had built up a routine of his own, and for the next few hours, he trained with his sword, slamming it into and slicing it at a training dummy. He probably should have gone straight to bed, once his post was over for the day, but he always felt wide awake, as though he needed to blow off some steam and exhaust himself. It was strange, but he had come to like his new schedule: guard Lennith, train for hours, eat, rest outside, head to bed, return to his post. It was pretty much the same day after day, but it was a nice sort of anchor that kept him in touch with everything. Before his post had been changed, he had spent most of the day by himself in his room, just.. thinking. He knew it wasn't exactly healthy, but he couldn't find the urge to change it. Now, however, everything was different.

Once he had cleaned up, Cullen headed downstairs to eat, then made his way outside to rest beneath the same tree he sat beneath every day. Before he could reach the tree, though, a loud bark reached his ears, followed by a man yelling.

"Damned dog! Get out of here! Shoo!"

A few barks sounded in succession, as though a dog were trying to respond.

Turning around the bend in the Tower, Cullen came to a stop to watch Lennith's Mabari bouncing around the Tower garden and one of the cooks in the middle of all the herbs and shaking a fist at the dog, whose muzzle was apparently covered in dirt. The picture in and of itself was quite funny, but at the same time, if the dog dug up some of the vegetables before they were finished growing, the Tower might have a shortage of food. Cullen sighed, shook his head, and headed over to the two.

"Hey, uh.." And he realized he had no clue what the dog's name was... "Dog, stop that!"

The Mabari looked up and over to Cullen, letting out a short, quick bark, before bouncing over to the templar. Stopping short, the dog promptly sat down on the ground and stared up at Cullen.

"Thank you, ser templar. The dog was trying to dig up the carrots, damned beast," the cook shook his head before going back to tending the garden.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Cullen looked down at the dog and shook his head. "You shouldn't do that, you know," he started. "If you dig up the vegetables, they'll go bad, and then the people in the Tower might not have enough food."

With a soft whine, the Mabari hung his head forward, as though apologizing.

When Cullen was still young, living on his parents farm, he had a Mabari of his own. The poor thing had been pierced with an arrow, and Cullen found it out in the woods, dying. He brought it back to the barn and spent days trying to fix up and heal the dog, and eventually, his hard work was rewarded. Aside from a limp, the dog was as good as new, and never left Cullen's side after wards, well aware that he had saved his life. Cullen knew Mabari were very smart and dangerously loyal, so he knew the dog understood him. With a nod, he reached out and patted the dog's head. "Don't do it again, and I promise I won't tell your mistress."

Tongue now lolling out of his mouth, the Mabari barked in response.

After another pat, Cullen walked around the dog and made his way over to the tree, sitting down below it with a soft groan; his muscles were sore from his training, but it felt strangely good. Without warning, Lennith's Mabari trotted over and laid down beside Cullen, resting his very large head on the templar's lap. Surprised, Cullen looked down at the dog before chuckling and removing a gauntlet. With the armor-free hand, he pet the dog's head and scratched behind his ears. "You're nothing but a big teddy bear sometimes," he commented. "Just like Dozer. I had a Mabari like you once, you know."

A soft grumble emitted from the dog's throat. He would have barked, but he was enjoying the scratching way too much.

Cullen chuckled once more before settling back and lazily petting the dog, thoroughly enjoying the light breeze and garden scents. Such simple pleasures... Time passed, and after a while, as he was finally getting tired, Cullen stood up from his spot beneath the tree and lightly slapped the dog's left haunch. "I need to get some sleep. You better go find your mistress, and make sure you behave, eh?"

After making a big deal of stretching, first leaning backward, then forward, the dog barked once and followed Cullen into the Tower, taking a different turn when Cullen made his way up to his quarters. Sleep quickly claimed him for several hours, until he woke up to make his way to his spot outside Lennith's door. Not long after, Lennith and her Mabari joined him. She told him about her conversation with Greagoir.

"I told you it wasn't anything to worry about," he said. Part of him, however, was quite happy nothing had happened to the other templars. Friends or not, he didn't wish death on anyone.

"Yes, well, just rub that in my face, why don't you?" she pouted. With a shrug, she sat down at her desk and opened up the large tome. "Although I'm happy that they're alright, and they'll be home soon, I just... almost wish they'd be gone for much, much longer."

Turning his head to look at her, Cullen raised an eyebrow in question. Although it seemed as though she were trying to hide it, he could hear the sadness in her voice.

Lennith shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "When they return, I'm sure they will be the ones taking up post outside my door instead of you. And even though I have come to look upon them as friends, I would much rather it were you standing outside my door, instead of them..."

"They may not return for another week or two," Cullen murmured quietly, turning completely to face her. He hated to admit it, but he had thought about the same thing and come to the same conclusions. When Chasan and the others returned, things would certainly change.

"Yes, and they could be back tomorrow for all we know." Sighing, she folded her arms in front of her on the desk and rested the side of her head against them. "And it's not as if I could go up to Greagoir and ask him to only assign you as my guard, because that certainly wouldn't seem scandalous at all."

He felt his heart skip a beat at her words and felt a flood of warmth flow through him as he heard her admit that she wanted him to remain her guard. But it was true enough; if either of them asked Greagoir to keep Cullen where he was, well... it wouldn't look good for either of them. "Well, I'm sure Greagoir would return me to my post in the hallway," he offered weakly. Sure, he may not be able to spend the nights talking and listening to her, but at least they could still at least see each other during the day.

"And if I ever stopped to talk to you there, aside from a greeting, rumors would start flying about this place in a heartbeat, you know that as well as I." She sighed again. "I should be utterly furious that Greagoir insists on having one or two templars standing outside my door every night, but I'm not, especially since you're one of those templars. It just feels like I'm going to lose a friend when they return, and I've lost enough. I don't want _another_ piece of my heart to break away. I don't know how much of it is even left..."

Cullen could feel his heart ache as he listened to her words. He watched her bury her face in her arms and wanted to immediately move over to her and gather her up in his arms so he could chase her pain away, or at least take it unto himself, either way, as long as she was the one no longer in pain. With a soft sigh, he entered her room and stopped before her, staring into her eyes when she looked up at him. Her heart was meant to be protected, he knew as much, he also knew he wanted to be the one to do it. After murmuring as much, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips against her forehead, feeling as though it was the right thing to do.

When he leaned away, she murmured: "That shouldn't be too hard. I think there are only a few crumbs of it left."

"Doubtful," he smiled, looking down at her, already seeing some of the sadness leave her. "A person who dedicated the past few years of her life to protect the world must have the biggest heart in the world. I'm surprised it hasn't burst from your chest yet."

She tilted her head up to look at him, the right corner of her lips curling upwards. After a few minutes, she asked: "Why do you smell like cedar?"

"...What?" Blinking a few times, he raised an eyebrow, not exactly certain how to respond to such a question. It had been so random and took him so completely off guard that he could do nothing but stare at her.

"Like.. do you use some Orlesian oil, or cologne? Every time you're nearby, you smell like wood, like cedar."

"No.. I don't.. Are you saying I smell bad?" It was the only thing he could think of asking. How else was he supposed to respond to such a question? Truthfully, he wasn't exactly sure what cedar smelled like, and even so, he had no idea _why_ he would smell like it.

"No, no!" she laughed. "I _like_ how you smell. I've always been curious.. Every time I get near you, I can smell wood, I'm pretty sure it's cedar, I could be wrong, but.. I don't know, I've always wondered."

"You.. are a very strange woman," he stated. How exactly did one go from worrying about a small heart to asking about why he smelled like cedar? Very odd indeed... Not that he disliked that quality about her... But still.

"Yes.. I do get that sometimes," she muttered. With a 'hmph', she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I may be strange, but at least I don't smell like a _tree_," she stuck her tongue out at him.

Biting back a laugh, he shook his head before replying: "No, you smell like lilies." With that, he returned to his post outside her door and tried his hardest not to burst out laughing; she saves the world and yet still sticks her tongue out at people as though she were two. It was just downright funny...


	9. Chapter 5 Lennith

_Mitheria – I'm glad. =D As I've said, I haven't done it before, but I'm glad people enjoy it. (Won't lie, I was worried people would be all WTF?)_

_dearharuki – I never gave Lennith's dog a name, mostly because I've had like three different ones in game, lol. So I just stick with Mabari, dog, Dog and so forth. XD As for the sweetness: it's why I finally decided doing the chapters from each POV. I was sitting there, and realized: "Hrm.. this isn't gonna' make any sense... New chapter!" XD_

_Songlian – Thank you very much! Not to spoil too much, but Cullen questioning his faith is going to have a big impact on the story, but not for a few more chapters. As for Len's research, well, it's the reason the fic is labeled Adventure. Bwahaha!_

_Ninja and Stella – heart as always for the reviews~_

A/N: Two reasons why it took me so long to post this chapter. First is because of the holidays. I've been just too damned tired to sit and write/edit my fic, so it's just been sitting idle for a while. The second part is, well.. I don't like this chapter. It was originally two chapters, shoved together to make a longer chapter, but honestly, I have **no clue **as to why I dislike this chapter. I've read it over multiple times, changed a few things here and there, and I still can't figure out why I dislike it. So, I apologize in advance if anyone agrees with me and thinks this chapter sucks. Sadly, I know the only reason I'm posting it is because if I don't, the entire fic with go on permanent hiatus (something that's happened to one of my fics already), and I really don't want that happening. Sigh, oh well.

PS – Yey for Cullen being added to the character tab!

_

* * *

  
_

_Exigo  
_Chapter Five  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Lennith

Cullen's estimate had been closer than Lennith's; it was almost two weeks after her conversation with Greagoir that Chasan and the other templars returned. She had been quite happy to see the templars were unharmed in any way, but at the same time, she knew she wouldn't be having anymore night time conversations with Cullen. Her sadness was apparently quite noticeable as Petra commented on it the next day at breakfast.

"What's with you this morning?" the red head asked as she watched Amell poke at the food on her plate.

"Hm?" Lennith looked up. "What?"

"You seem.. depressed. Are you all right?"

Sitting up and putting her fork down, she nodded. "I'm fine. Just.. tired, I think."

"You're a bad liar sometimes, Len."

Lennith frowned, but didn't say anything. Normally she was a very good liar, but perhaps she had lost the ability some time along the way back to the Tower. Or perhaps she was just bad at lying when she was depressed. Because that's what she was: depressed. In the beginning, it had been cute and exhilarating to pass Cullen in the hallway, to wave at him, smile, and to see him return the greeting. But over the month and a half he had spent guarding her at night, it had been so much more. She had the freedom to talk to him, to ask him questions, to answer the questions he had for her. But in a heartbeat, all of it was shattered and swept under some random carpet to remain a secret of the past. And as she had predicted, she had felt a bit of her heart crumble into oblivion, and it hurt her, physically.

Petra watched her for a few minutes before speaking up again. "I know you have your secrets, being the Grey Warden and all, and I know there are things you can't tell me, but let me at least give you some advice?"

Looking up towards her friend and trying to push the sadness away, Lennith nodded.

"Something is bothering you, that much is certain. Well, pretty obvious, actually. Maybe you should try and get out of the Tower for a day or two? It may not solve anything, but it might help just getting out of here and doing something else beside read in the library all day. You're free to do that, after all, so you might as well take advantage of it."

Looking down at her plate, Amell started poking her fork, processing what Petra had just said. Get out of the Tower... That really wouldn't solve _anything_ because then she'd _never_ see Cullen, and as it was, she'd only really be able to see him for a few seconds each day. She still had her research to take up all of her time, but it just wouldn't be the same anymore. Sighing, she started: "I don't..."

She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she finally pieced things together. Get out of the Tower... of _course_! Immediately, her mind started working overtime, and she could feel a grin spread out over her lips. Quickly, she stood up and looked down at her bewildered friend. "Petra.. you are a genius! If this works, I may sort of disappear, but if that happens, I _will_ write you. Ugh, I could almost kiss you."

"Please, don't, I think I'd lose my breakfast if you did," Petra laughed. "Go, go. Do what you need," she waved her hand dismissively.

Lennith ran around behind Petra's chair, hugged her friend as quickly and tightly as she could, then rushed out of the dining hall, Petra laughing all the while.

A plan was quickly forming in the Grey Warden's mind, but first, she had to find Cullen. Truth be told, once leaving her room in the morning for breakfast, she never saw Cullen for the rest of the morning, and had no clue as to where he would be. The only thing she could think of was that if he wasn't at his normal post on the second floor, then he was somewhere on the templar's floor, and she dearly hoped he wasn't already asleep...

Lennith ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, but she slowed down once she hit the second floor, catching her breath. Following the curve in the hallway, she was expecting to see Cullen at his old post, but.. he wasn't. Curses threatened to leave the Grey Warden's mouth, but she bit them back and continued down the hallway. With a small burst of energy, she ran up the stairs to the templar floor, and once she reached it, she glanced into every room she passed by, keeping her nose out for his familiar scent. _Hah, I'm like a Mabari or something_... she laughed to herself.

Not in the chapel, not in the Knight-Commander's office, not in any of the single rooms she passed. As an afterthought, she realized she had no idea where his room was. And then the smell of cedar hit her nose. It was faint, but she could still smell it. She followed it to the training room and paused in the doorway, eyes scanning over the handful of templars in the room. Her eyes quickly fell upon Cullen in the back of the room where he was skillfully attacking a target dummy with a two handed sword.

_Of course he's in the back of the damned room_, she thought, slightly annoyed. How exactly was she supposed to get his attention without calling out to him, or walking into the room and right up to him? Either choice would most certainly bring attention to both Grey Warden and templar, and she didn't want that.

"What's the Grey Warden doing here?"

Startled, Lennith quickly turned to her left to see Chasan grinning at her. Putting on a smile, and quickly thinking up some bullshit excuse, she shrugged: "I was bored. I've been wandering around the Tower since breakfast and realized that despite the fact I've been made a prisoner on your floor, I don't really know what's up here."

Chasan laughed. "Well, this is just the training room. Pretty boring if you ask me, especially with all the smelly templars in here." Lennith laughed as he crossed his arms. "Hm.. You might prefer our chapel. Religious type or not, the stained glass windows in there are breathtaking."

"Really? Huh. I honestly didn't even bother looking in when I passed it. I figured all chapels looked alike," she grinned. "Well, maybe I _will_ go look at it after all," she nodded, quickly finding her way out of their conversation. "I'll let you get back to your training."

"Yeah, I'd rather not stand here waiting for you while you chat up the Grey Warden," Saevan called out.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, you lout!" Chasan yelled over his shoulder. "Anyway, I better get back to my training partner before he throws something at me. See you later!"

She smiled and nodded, watching Chasan cross the room to join his fellow templar. Once she was certain neither of them were looking her way, she looked back up towards Cullen. This time he was looking back at her, wiping his brow with the back of his arm. Catching his eye, she tilted her head, motioning for him to join her outside. She left the room and walked a few steps, making sure she was out of line of sight of the training room, before stopping and waiting. She felt jittery and very impatient, and she tapped her foot as she waited for Cullen to join her.

A moment later, he did. "What's wrong?" His brow was furrowed, worry dancing on the edges of his face.

"Nothing, I'm fine, I just need to ask you something," she spoke quickly, her voice just slightly under normal volume. "I don't think it would be a good idea if I stayed here and explained it, so just answer me this: if you were given the chance to.. take a vacation of a sort.. to leave the Tower for a while, would you?"

"What? Why?"

Grumbling quietly, she shook her head; they really didn't have time for his questions. "Just a yes or a no. Would you be completely averse to leaving the Tower for a while?"

"That would.. depend on many things. I can't just say yes or no without knowing why," he shook his head, looking down at her.

"Cullen!" she hissed. "I don't exactly care what people say about me, but if we stand out here chatting, someone will notice, and then someone will say something, and the next thing you know, there will be rumors around the entire Tower about us. I do not wish to mar your reputation, so if I have to make the decision for you, I will, but I would rather not do that. So, yes or no?"

He opened his mouth as though about to complain, but sighed and shook his head. "Alright, fine. No, I would not mind leaving the Tower, just to, say, get out for a while."

"Thank you," she smiled, relief immediately flooding through her. She had truly hoped he wouldn't make things as complicated as he already had, and she had been seconds from making the decision for him, as she had threatened. Thankfully, he decided before she left in annoyance. "If what I have planned works, you'll find out about it later today." With a nod, she turned and quickly rushed down the hall to her own room, leaving a dumbfounded Cullen behind her. She had much planning to do, and the quicker she got it done, the better.

A few hours later, the Grey Warden was standing in the First Enchanter's office with both Irving and Greagoir.

"What is it, child?" Irving asked, standing behind his desk.

This was it. After many hours of planning, she could finally put things into motion, but first, she would have to get acceptance from both the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter. Certainly, she wouldn't explain the _full_ truth to them, but it hadn't been hard for her to twist things around when she practiced the conversation with herself earlier in her sleeping quarters. "I asked to speak to you both because I wish to discuss something that involves multiple parties," she started, her gaze moving between Greagoir and Irving.

The First Enchanter nodded. "Go on."

"I wish to leave the Tower."

Greagoir opened his mouth to say something, but Irving quickly cut him off. "You may leave whenever you want, dear child. You are the Grey Warden, surely you know this?"

_And yet it was necessary to set guard dogs at my door._.. she thought sourly, but said nothing about it. No, she would not complain to Irving about it; certainly, as she had been his apprentice, he knew that while she might be annoyed about the whole thing, that she would just grin and bear it, as she had never been one to bitch, whine, moan and groan about things she knew she couldn't change. "I do, First Enchanter. However, I have taken up a mission, a.. Grey Warden mission, some thing I cannot explain. I will be traveling Ferelden, and possibly Orlais, for however long is necessary. I will not lie – it may be dangerous for myself as well as others. And so I ask a boon," she turned her gaze solely to Greagoir. "One I'm almost certain you'll be happy to grant."

"And what is this boon you wish to ask?" Greagoir asked cautiously.

"I wish to have a templar escort for the duration of my journey." She waited a few seconds, letting her request sink in. She was almost certain both men thought she was quite possibly out of her mind, for what mage _ever_ requested a templar accompany them anywhere? "As I said, this mission might be dangerous. I have always traveled in the company of multiple people who, if needed, could.. take care of things if something were to.. happen to me. I know that there is fear, within the Chantry and templar groups, that because of who I am, that I may have an increased chance of becoming an.. abomination.." It was hard to speak the word; it was like drinking poison of a sort... Part of her was absolutely disgusted with herself for even speaking the words, but if she were to follow through with her plan, it was necessary. "Therefore, I feel it would be comforting to all parties, including myself, although I hate to say it, that I have an escort for the duration for this journey."

"I.. cannot deny you such a request, but I cannot grant it to you either..." Irving started, glancing at Greagoir before turning his attention back to Amell. "Are you certain about this?"

"I am, First Enchanter."

Irving laughed quietly. "Well, Greagoir, I'm sure you are as surprised about this as I am. And I'm also certain that what the Grey Warden has asked would let quite a few people sleep easier at night, yourself included."

"Yes, it would." Greagoir continued to watch Lennith as though she had some other surprise to spring on him. After a minute, he nodded. "Very well, I will grant your boon. I will pick one of our older templars to accompany you when you begin your journey."

Amell shook her head. And thus, the crutch: "I would request it be Cullen who accompanies me."

Greagoir's brow ruffled in confusion. "Cullen is, indeed, one of the most talented templars in the Tower, currently, and the senior templar after myself, but he has also gone through the most troublesome ordeals. I do not know how he will act outside of the Tower." All parties in the room knew of what Greagoir spoke about: Uldred and his coup.

"And that is _precisely_ why I request him. _Because_ of what happened to him years ago, I believe he is the one templar that would strike me down, if the time arose, without a second thought. You may not realize it, Knight-Commander, but because of who I am and what I have done, many of the other templars would pause before doing what might need to be done. And as you know, hesitation, when dealing with an abomination... would lead to nothing but death and destruction." Again, saying the word made her want to hit herself repeatedly, but she had to say it, if things were to go her way.

"I told you leaving templars outside her bedroom at night would be pointless," Irving commented. Lennith could almost hear the laughter he bit back.

Greagoir scowled. "Very well, Grey Warden," he grumbled, obviously annoyed. Whether it was from the truth of Lennith's words or Irving's, one could not say for certain. "I shall speak with Cullen later. When do you plan on leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning, if possible. I can wait another day, if necessary, but the sooner I leave, the better."

With a curt nod, Greagoir stalked passed Lennith and out the door. Irving finally let out the laugh he had been holding in. "I had assumed Greagoir would be happy with your request, but it seems as though your words have stung him more than even he anticipated," he spoke up.

"I hate.. _hate_.. saying, even thinking, anything about.. turning.. but.. I have gone through enough in my short life to know the differences between truths and fantasies," she sighed softly. She hated twisting her words around Irving, as he had been like a father to her, but if she had to do it for her plan to be completely solid, she would, and she did. But she quickly changed the subject: "I hate to ask, though, but would it be possible for me to collect a few supplies from the Tower before I leave?"

"Of course, child, of course. I have not forgotten how you have saved this Tower from utter destruction. Twice," he smiled through his beard. "Anything from our supply closets and kitchen is available to you."

"Thank you, First Enchanter. I should begin preparing immediately, then."

"Good luck to you, child."

Lennith smiled and nodded before turning and leaving Irving's room. It wasn't until she was back in her room with the door closed that she let her composure fall and actually danced, her Mabari barking from his spot on her bed, apparently catching her happiness like a cold. Her plan had worked, smoothly and flawlessly. Not only that, but she had rankled Greagoir, and that, more than anything, was worth lying to Irving. Now, not only would she now be able to continue and expand her research, but she would be able to do it all in the company of Cullen. What more could she ask for? Letting out a laugh, she turned and began packing her items.

* * *

_Location: Lake Calenhad, Spoiled Princess docks_

"When you mentioned leaving the Tower, this isn't exactly what I thought you meant," Cullen spoke as the small boat he, Lennith and her Mabari were riding in reached the shore of Lake Calenhad. Grabbing the traveling packs that contained the bulk of their supplies and putting the straps over his shoulder, he stepped off the boat before turning and waiting for her to follow.

"Yes, well," she started, standing up before turning to the boatman. "Thank you, Kester. I shall see you when we return," she smiled to the older man.

"Take care of yourself, Grey Warden," he nodded before busying himself with tying the boat to the docks.

"As I was saying," she turned back to Cullen, her voice dropping slightly. "Weren't _you_ the one who said you wanted to protect me? So if I'm off trying to complete this quest of mine, how would you go about doing that?" she grinned, stepping gingerly along the boat until she reached the end, watching her Mabari leap from the boat and onto land. Following templar and dog, she stepped from the boat, but rather than land gracefully on the earth, the boat rocked from a wave, and she tripped. She threw her hands out to stop her fall as Cullen stepped forward to catch her, her hands landing to press against into his armor, his hands grabbing her arms to steady her.

"See?" she laughed, looking up at him once she had caught her footing. "If you weren't here, I would have fallen into the water, gotten soaking wet, caught pneumonia and then possibly died. You're good at this," she grinned.

Cullen sighed deeply. "I'm going to regret saying 'yes', aren't I?"

"Of course not. This will be fun! And it'll be good for you," she nodded, stepping passed him. " When was the last time you got out of the Tower?" When he didn't answer, she smirked: "Exactly. Trust me."

He shook his head and grumbled something under his breath before following her away from the lake.

Smiling innocently back at him, she led him towards the Spoiled Princess inn. Before they started off on their journey, she wanted to pick up a few items that the Tower had been lacking. Although she never learned the barkeep's name, she had visited the inn enough for him to recognize her, and he was friendly enough. Well aware of his fear of dogs, she made her Mabari stay outside while Cullen and she entered the tavern. After a few pleasantries, Lennith asked him for a few items, and while he headed into the back to grab what she wanted, she glanced around the inn, quite surprised to see so many patrons. Every time she had visited before, there were barely a handful. Perhaps ending the Blight made people more comfortable about leaving their homes.

Her eyes suddenly widened as something hit her ass, hard.

"Hey there, sshhugar," came the drunken rumble behind her.

Lennith, like most women, did not like being man-handled. Without a second thought, she quickly turned around, cocked her right fist back and slammed it into the drunk's face. Were he sober, her strength wouldn't be enough to move the man, however, because of his drunken state, and thus his lack of balance, the man fell backwards, tripped over a table, and landed in a mess of wood and beer. Shaking out her now bruised and sore knuckles, she sneered down at the man and turned back to find the barkeep staring at the mess.

"Sorry," she shrugged, taking her goods and paying him extra for the mess she had caused. "Maybe the fool will learn to treat women better," she muttered, abruptly turning around and leaving the inn, Cullen right on her heels.

When they were a short distance from the inn, Cullen spoke up: "I'm beginning to think I was brought along to protect everyone else from _you_, not the other way around."

After quickly mending her hand with a simple spell, Lennith stopped and turned around to face Cullen, her lips parting to fling a retort back at him, but she pursed her lips instead – he was chuckling. "Yes, well, I don't exactly care for random strangers slapping my ass," she muttered, eyeing him. "I don't think I'd mind it too much if you did it though." Without another word, she turned around and continued on the path away from the Lake, an evil grin on her lips as she mentally pictured Cullen blushing.

Now that they were out of the Tower, and away from gossiping apprentices, Lennith was free to toss such innocent comments and innuendos Cullen's way. It was something she would have done much, much earlier, but with the chance of being over heard by someone in the Tower, she kept her comments to herself. Now that she was free to speak them as they came to her, she knew she would be having quite a bit of fun, at Cullen's expense. She hoped, though, that in the long run, the comments would harden him, and maybe he'd take a lesson from her and start flinging them right back at her. At least, that's what she hoped.

It was a few minutes before she heard him jog after her.

"S-so," he cleared his throat, "where are we heading first?"

She paused, waiting for him to catch up and walk beside her. "Redcliff first. It's a good place to restock, the inn is nice, and the Arl has a small library. I may not find anything of interest in any of his books, but then again, I might be lucky."

He nodded before asking: "How is your research going?" Reaching over, he took hold of the supplies that Lennith bought at the inn and added them to one of the many traveling packs he was holding at his shoulder.

"It's progressing, slowly, but I wasn't exactly expecting to figure anything out immediately." She peered up at him. "You know, I _can_ carry a few things."

Cullen just shrugged, apparently unperturbed by the large amount of weight hanging from his shoulder.

She was almost certain that the weight of the bags was at least double what she weighed, what with the food, the clothes, the books, vellums, writing utensils, survival supplies, bandages, poultices and the like, and the fact he was carrying it all on one shoulder as though it weighed nothing was quite impressive. An image of Cullen armor-less and swinging around his sword with ease suddenly entered her mind. She could picture his muscles rippling, a light sweat across his skin...

Her Mabari barking tore her from her daydream. Pouting, she looked down at him. "I was thinking of something nice, you know. What do you want?"

He bounced around her, his stubby tail wagging as best it could.

"Oh, alright," she shook her head, reaching into one of the bags on Cullen's shoulder. She took hold of a bone before pulling it out and throwing it as far into the distance as her strength would allow her. With a bark, her Mabari took off after it.

"What were you thinking about?" Cullen glanced down at her.

"Mm, you don't want to know."

"You said it was something nice, why wouldn't I?"

An evil grin came to her lips, a glint to her eye, and she looked up at him. She opened her mouth, as though ready to reply, then shook her head, "I'll tell you later." She could tell him, certainly, but where would the fun in that be? Rather, he'll have to spend the rest of the night trying to figure it out on his own.

Cullen frowned, but shrugged. "If you wish."

As they continued their journey towards Redcliff, the templar and mage rarely spoke, the silence between them just as comfortable as it had been when Cullen stood guard at her door. When night had fallen, and they found a suitable spot for camp, a fairly clear area close to a small creek, Amell tossed the bone one more time. After catching it, her Mabari dragged it off a little ways from where Cullen was setting up wood for a fire and plopped down on the ground with it between his paws. He immediately began biting and gnawing at his prize.

Once Cullen got the fire going, he crouched down in front of their bag of supplies and began to take out their bedrolls, blankets and food for dinner. Plopping down in front of the fire, Lennith leaned back on a hand and watched him. "You know, you don't have to take care of everything, I can help."

He shrugged, rolling out his bedroll in front of the fire before getting up and offering Lennith her's as well as another blanket. "It's fine. Moving around and actually doing something is much better than standing around in an empty hallway, waiting for something to happen."

"Hm, I suppose that's true," she nodded, rolling out her bedroll and laying it out near the fire. "But I feel bad for sitting here while you take care of everything, so!" Amell quickly got up and snagged the cooking pot Cullen had just retrieved from their bags. "I can at least get some water." She flashed him a grin and headed towards the creek to fill up the pot. By the time she returned with the pot half full of water, he had already set up the metals hooks so she could hang it over the fire. "Where did you learn to start a fire?" she asked as she sat back down on her bedroll and blanket. During her travels before the Blight, it was usually Wynne or herself that would have to light the camp fire, because no one else apparently knew how.

"Templars are taught some survival skills during training. It's assumed that every templar would be out in the wilds, at least once, tracking down a maleficar or apostate, so we were all taught how to survive on our own," he replied, adding vegetables and other various foods to the water.

"All templars?" she murmured to herself, her brow furrowed. So either Alistair was a bit of a liar, or he was just down right lazy. Lennith snorted in annoyance. She reached up and pulled her hair out of it's bun to run her fingers through the strands and shake out the long locks. Bending her knees, she brought them to her chest and rested her chin upon them. "I hope you're not upset at me for pulling you out of the Tower like I did."

Cullen shook his head, sitting back on his own bedroll as he waited for the soup to start boiling. "No. It's been too long since I've gotten out of the Tower. It's.. nice. I've missed seeing the sky at night, out in the open."

She smiled, wrapping her arms around her legs and watching him look up into the darkening sky. "You're a bit of a romantic, aren't you?"

"I guess," he shrugged, bringing his gaze away from the stars and leveling it on her. "You must be as well. Why else would you have saved Ferelden, unless you always believed you could?"

Turning to look at the fire, she shrugged. "You could say that. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And it was, obviously, it was just.." She sighed. "It was so hard.. Being flung into the role of leader barely days after my Harrowing.. after being betrayed by my best friend.. I know everyone saw me as a strong and confident mage, and I was, to a degree, but when you're suddenly leading people in a fight against the Blight, when you have... no real idea of what you're doing or what's going to happen, when you have no one to talk to because you're the one listening to everyone else and helping everyone else... It wasn't easy, and I'm glad it's over."

"But part of your misses it." It was a statement, not a question.

Lennith chuckled. "Yes. I miss this, the camping out at night around a fire with my friends, the journeys. It's nice, at least, this part is."

They ate in silence once the food was done, and she was surprised at how good it was. A simple soup of vegetables and herbs, and it had flavor. Cullen was most certainly a better cook than any of her allies had been. Once he was done, Cullen stood up and she watched him walk a little ways from the fire.

She recognized the stance he took, and she shook her head. "You're not standing watch, are you?"

"That was my intention," he turned back to look at her.

Shaking her head again, she got up and joined him. "Don't. The plus about being a mage and having done all this before: I can set wards around the camp, and the moment anything gets close, I'll be alerted." She could see he wanted to protest, his templar training kicking in. "I know you and magic aren't the best of friends, but, look at it this way: you stand guard part of the night, I take the second part, neither of us gets much sleep, and the next morning, when we need our strength, we're both exhausted. I for one would rather not be ambushed and too tired to defend myself."

With a sigh of resignation, Cullen nodded. "Alright."

Once she had gone some distance from their camp, Lennith set wards at each of the four cardinal points, then returned to her blanket before the fire. "And, as an extra precaution," she grinned at Cullen and pointed to her Mabari, "he'll probably notice something before it hits the wards, and we'll have an even more advanced warning. Then again, the times I had camped around here before, aside from darkspawn, there was nothing of notice. And since the bulk of the darkspawn are destroyed..." she trailed off with a shrug.

"Very well. But if you wake up to a bear eating your face, it's not my fault," Cullen smirked.

She laughed. "Very well, ser Templar. Make sure you take your armor off," she called out, rolling onto her side to sleep. "I know it's impossible to sleep well in it, and if I wake up during the night, I'd like something nice to look at." As she was facing away from him, she couldn't see his face, but she grinned nonetheless, picturing a blush lighting up his face.


	10. Chapter 5 Cullen

A/N: I still hate the previous chapter, and I still don't know why, lol. But no, this fic is not going on hiatus. Updates may still be more spread out (as in, I may not get to post a chapter every other day as I had planned and have obviously not been doing), but it will continue, no question about that. PS – I'm so happy the holidays are over... wooh.

* * *

_Exigo  
_Chapter Five  
Location: Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad  
POV: Cullen

Cullen wasn't exactly certain whether or not he should be happy about being right. After all, he had been able to spend two more weeks standing guard outside Lennith's door, but the time seemed to pass too quickly for his liking. After the news of Chasan and the other templars, and before they returned, a barrier between both mage and templar completely disappeared. Whether Lennith had realized it or not, she had begun to talk more with him and spend less time on her research. Cullen, in turn, would actually reply with more than one word responses. It seemed the two of them were determined to spend as much time "together" as they could while they still had the time.

The day the templars had returned, Greagoir summoned Cullen to his office to update him and let him know that he would stand guard outside the Grey Warden's room one more night before returning to his previous post. Being the obedient templar he no longer wanted to be, Cullen nodded in affirmation before leaving the Knight-Commander's office to head directly to the training room. There, he spent hours venting his frustration, annoyance, sadness and any other negative emotion that had built up inside. Well, at least he wasn't the only one that was right; Lennith _did_ say he would probably be returned to his old post. But why did it _hurt_ to be right?

The last night that Cullen stood outside Lennith's room was unlike any other. It was as if a black cloud had ascended over the two, and neither knew what to say. Or perhaps neither of them _wanted_ to say anything. Lennith sat at her desk, reading from a book and taking notes, while Cullen stood ever-faithfully outside the room. Although little was said, Cullen could tell that she didn't want to go to bed. For hours later than normal, Lennith continued to read, every so often rubbing her eyes and very often yawning. He knew she would have normally gone to sleep long ago, but he was thankful she wanted to stay up. Conversation or no, he was still comfortable around her. And since it was their last night together...

The next morning, when Lennith awoke after so few hours of sleep and sadly bade him goodbye before heading downstairs to eat, Cullen sighed and took off for the training room. Perhaps if he mindlessly hit things with his sword he could forget the sadness that wanted to crush him. It wasn't very hard for him to lose himself in combat, and not long after he began, almost all thought and feeling left him as he repeatedly hit the target dummy. Thankfully the stuffed doll had been made quite well, otherwise, Cullen would have probably beat the thing to a pulp within moments.

Hours quickly passed by, and he barely noticed, too caught up moving his arms and his body, flowing with his sword as he sliced it through the air, stabbed it into the dummy, slapped the sides of the metal against the target. Any other templar that had decided to use the training room would quickly take notice of Cullen before promptly deciding to avoid him. Perhaps it was because of the sweat pouring down his entire body combined with the color of his skin, flushed from exertion, or the strange look in his eyes, the tenseness of his body. Either way, they could tell he wasn't all there and knew that if they approached him, he might turn and unthinkingly attack, his body currently dominating his mind.

"What's the Grey Warden doing here?"

Cullen's mind returned to his body, snapping into place and causing him to stop mid-swing. Immediately, the faint scent of lilies reached his nose, and he turned around to look towards the voice, his amber eyes immediately falling upon Lennith. Sweat continued to trickle down his body, and he panted, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest from all the exertion he had thoughtlessly put upon his body.

"I was bored. I've been wandering around the Tower since breakfast and realized that despite the fact I've been made a prisoner on your floor, I don't really know what's up here."

_Liar_. He wanted to smirk, but found he was too tired to even do that. Either way, he knew she was lying. He didn't question it, didn't pause to think about it, he just _knew_ it. He did, after all, know _her_. Why she was lying to Chasan, Cullen didn't have a clue, nor did he really try to think about why, rather, he let his body start to relax as he watched and listened in on their conversation.

"Well, this is just the training room. Pretty boring if you ask me, especially with all the smelly templars in here. Hm.. You might prefer our chapel. Religious type or not, the stained glass windows in there are breathtaking."

Cullen snorted to himself and rolled his eyes. _No, she wouldn't, you fool,_ he thought. He knew Lennith wasn't the religious sort, and although she enjoyed things of beauty, she wouldn't set foot inside the chapel unless she really needed to. And suddenly Cullen found himself wanting to cross the room and punch Chasan across the face. The smirk on the younger templar's face, the way he held himself. He was too cocky, and he assumed too much. But rather than follow through with what he wanted to do, Cullen sighed and lowered his sword to the floor, relaxing and reigning in his sudden jealousy.

"Really? Huh. I honestly didn't even bother looking in when I passed it. I figured all chapels looked alike. Well, maybe I _will_ go look at it after all. I'll let you get back to your training."

_Yes, go back to your training, you fool, and leave her alone,_ he thought. Reaching up, Cullen wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, his eyes following Lennith and watching as she turned to look towards him and motion towards the door. Once she left the room, Cullen sheathed the sword at his back before picking up a towel and wiping off his face and neck. It dawned on him that she had come looking for him, but why she would do that after all the times she had warned him of possible rumors and whispering apprentices made him worry. Tossing the wet towel to the floor, he turned and made his way out of the training room, immediately following her scent and coming to a stop before her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine, I just need to ask you something." She was speaking much faster than normal, and he could tell she was doing her best to keep her voice below normal conversation level. "I don't think it would be a good idea if I stayed here and explained it, so just answer me this: if you were given the chance to.. take a vacation of a sort.. to leave the Tower for a while, would you?"

That.. was a question he had not expected. In truth, he figured that something had happened, and she came to him seeking help. Why else would she go out of her way to find him when she was always worried that rumors would spread about them? Pushing the thoughts aside, he raised an eyebrow. "What? Why?"

She shook her head. "Just a yes or a no. Would you be completely averse to leaving the Tower for a while?"

"That would.. depend on many things. I can't just say yes or no without knowing why," he shook his head, looking down at her. And it was the truth. Well, sort of. He sure as hell would like the leave the Tower, but how would that be possible? Either way, her questions were confusing him, and he wasn't sure what to make of them.

"Cullen!" she hissed. "I don't exactly care what people say about me, but if we stand out here chatting, someone will notice, and then someone will say something, and the next thing you know, there will be rumors around the entire Tower about us. I do not wish to mar your reputation, so if I have to make the decision for you, I will, but I would rather not do that. So, yes or no?"

That was the normal Lennith reasoning he had expected from her the moment she had shown up at the training room. There were dozens of questions he wanted to ask her, such as why she was asking him such a thing. He opened his mouth as though about to complain, but sighed and shook his head. She knew what she was doing, he knew that much, so where was he to question her? "Alright, fine. No, I would not mind leaving the Tower, just to, say, get out for a while." _Or however long I could get away with it. Forever, even..._

"Thank you," she smiled. "If what I have planned works, you'll find out about it later today." With a nod, she turned and quickly rushed down the hall.

Cullen stared after her, totally and utterly confused as to what just happened. Was she planning on leaving the Tower and bringing him with her? At the mere thought, his heart, which had calmed down to a semi-normal beat, went back into overtime. Would such a thing be possible? If anyone could do it, he knew it would be her, but... why? Her research, probably, but still. Shaking his head, Cullen turned to make his way towards his own sleeping quarters. He shouldn't jump to conclusions, he knew as much, but a part of him suddenly felt happy, and he didn't want to get rid of that feeling just yet. Should he wind up disappointed, well, that was certainly possible, but he would deal with it then, not now.

Once in his sleeping quarters, a small square of a room with a bed, a night table and a metal tub for bathing, he closed the door, removed his gauntlets and sat on the corner of his bed. A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he thought of all the possibilities, all the chances, all the things he could do if he left the Tower. Big if, though. Part of him really couldn't see Greagoir letting him go, but then again, he knew Lennith could be quite convincing, perhaps even use her status to her advantage. But again, it all fell down to whatever it was she was planning. And then the bigger question: _why_ did she want to get him out of the Tower? He had been at Kinloch Hold for his entire life as a templar and a templar-in-training. The idea was just downright exciting, but again, why?

With a sigh, Cullen stood up and carefully stripped out of his armor, wincing as he felt all his muscles cry out in protest. It seemed he had overdone it a bit. Still wearing the linen trousers and shirt he wore beneath his armor, he moved over to the metal tub and grabbed a large wooden bucket. A warm bath sounded wonderful at the moment, and he left his room to retrieve some hot water. Normally, templar apprentices were the ones who would fill baths for the templars, but Cullen really didn't feel like being bothered at the moment. After a few trips, and some time later, the metal tub in his room was full of warm water, wisps of steam curling up into the colder air. Once removing the rest of his clothes, he slowly stepped into the water and sat down, groaning contently as his muscles immediately began to unwind and loosen up. He leaned back against the higher part of the tub and closed his eyes.

Although he was planning on relaxing, his mind immediately began to swim with thoughts and questions, and it took a while before he could sort them out coherently. Lennith had purposely sought him out to ask him whether or not he wanted to leave the Tower. From that, he could easily conclude that she some how had a plan to get him out of the Tower. Whether or not that included her, he realized, he didn't know, but it wasn't as if she actually had to stay confined within the Tower. She was the Grey Warden, after all, and free to come and go as she pleased. An image from his dreams came to mind, of Lennith in a white dress, and he promptly hoped that should she get him out of the Tower, that she would join him. Again, he thought that perhaps she was planning on continuing her research and would bring him along? But what could she possibly tell Greagoir that would in turn cause the Knight-Commander to freely let Cullen go?

Reaching out of the tub, he grabbed a small bar of soap from the floor and started rubbing it along his arms. If, in the end, he was allowed the leave the Tower, what then? Cullen promptly shook his head. Now was not the time to think or worry about it. If something was going to happen, it was going to happen. If it wasn't, it wasn't. That was the simple truth. All he could do for now, was wait. Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he quickly scrubbed himself clean, dried off and got changed.

With the rest of the day to himself, Cullen, not yet feeling tired, and needing to get his sleep schedule back to what it had been before Lennith returned, made his way down to the dining area for something to eat. Now that the templars had returned, the side of the dining room where they ate had more people than normal. Not wanting his mind to start thinking up more questions that he currently did not have answers to, Cullen sat with one of the groups and ate quietly. Shortly into his meal, Chasan and Saevan, apparently finished with their training, joined the rest of the templars at the long table.

"Ah, man, it feels good to finally sit down and eat something I didn't have to kill with my own hands," Chasan laughed, sitting only a few seats down, and opposite, from Cullen.

"You killed?" Reon spoke up. "From what I remember, you couldn't catch a rabbit, or any other type of small animal. Come to think of it, you couldn't even start a fire without our help." Saevan and Tyan laughed.

"Yeah, well, whatever," Chasan muttered, biting into a piece of bread. "Either way, the point is, I'm glad to be back here. Soft beds, good food, and women."

Saevan snorted. "Don't you mean woman? Swear, all you talked about was the Grey Warden. It was getting rather annoying."

Hearing Lennith's title, Cullen's ears perked up, and he actually started to listen in on the conversation. Some strange part of him was annoyed, as though a lion were quietly growling in the back of his mind.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure everyone agrees she's just downright attractive. Not to mention, we get to stand guard outside her room again tonight," Chasan grinned.

"Attractive, yes, but she's still a mage," Saevan pointed out.

"And the Grey Warden. She's got a bit more leeway than any of the other chicks in this tower," Chasan countered.

And again, Cullen wanted to reach out and punch the younger templar. Who was he to speak of Lennith so? Sure, Cullen wasn't exactly the most experienced man, but he was still a man, and he wasn't stupid enough not to know what the templars were talking about. It was one of the most popular table topics, but it had never centered around Lennith. More and more, Cullen found himself finding it hard to control his growing anger.

Reon nearly spit out his water as he laughed. "What, you think she'd spend the night with you? Get over yourself, Chasan."

"Well why not?" he shrugged. "She's a woman, same as all others, except I'm sure most people would avoid her like the plague if she showed an interest. I'm sure she's itching to take a man to bed."

Cullen had stopped eating a while ago, but he still held his fork, and his hand was painfully clenching on it. Slowly, the metal was bending. A conflict was raging through his mind: he had promised to protect her, and that certainly meant her reputation as well, but at the same time, he could hear Lennith in his mind, and all her warnings about rumors and the like. What exactly was he supposed to do?

"If she were, I'm sure she would have done it while the bulk of us were out chasing that maleficar," Tyan shook his head.

"Hm, maybe you're right. You're were the one guarding her door at night, weren't you Cullen?" Chasan asked.

Slowly, Cullen looked up, his self control fighting tooth and nail to keep himself calm, to bite back the words he really wanted to say. He could hear all the insinuations in Chasan's question, and saw them in the smirk he gave Cullen. How easy it would be to reach out and knock him to the floor. But he wouldn't. Not yet at least. Instead, he replied: "Yes, I was. And I do not apprentice what you are insinuating, Chasan. I, unlike you, it seems, still value my templar oaths." Well that was a lie, pure and simple, but it didn't mean they had to know it. "And were you not the one who was going on a rampage about how unfairly the Grey Warden had been treated? Or perhaps that was all because you had hoped to get on her good side and into her bed? Disgusting."

With that, Cullen stood up and fixed each and every one of the templars at the table with a cold stare. He could feel his stomach churning in disgust at himself as he spoke: "You should all remember that you are templars, that you have taken oaths, and that the Grey Warden is a mage. It is our duty to oppose everything that a mage is, and we are to watch their every move. Mages are not some silly farm girls you bring to bed for a one night stand. That goes for the Grey Warden as well."

He spoke of the definition of a templar, but it certainly wasn't how he felt, not in the least. It physically pained him to speak of Lennith, and perhaps all other mages, in such a way, but he had chosen to pick the middle road: keep the rumors to a minimum, and at the same time, strike a low blow to Chasan and the other young templars who needed a good beating. "Perhaps you should all remember why you took your oaths." With a shake of his head, Cullen turned and left the dining area, not bothering to look back to see what sort of effect his words had on the others.

Wanting nothing more than to return to his room to be alone, Cullen quickly walked towards the stairs. Reaching the templar floor, he thought of shamelessly throwing up once he reached his quarters, but before he could get half way towards his room, Greagoir called out from his office.

"Cullen. A moment, please."

He put his wants on hold and tried to mentally settle his stomach as he stepped into Greagoir's office. "Yes, Knight-Commander?"

Greagoir settled his eyes upon Cullen, and for a few moments, he stared at the younger templar. Cullen could only assume that the Knight-Commander was either trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say, or, he was trying to get some information out of Cullen. Either way, the look he was receiving was unnerving, but Cullen did his best to ignore it.

"I will get right to the point," Greagoir finally spoke up, sitting down at his desk and lacing his fingers together. He continued to look up at Cullen. "The Grey Warden wishes to leave the Tower. Truthfully, it was a surprise when she returned, but she has explained that her reasons for leaving are for Grey Warden business. I can only assume that that is why she even returned to the Tower. Nonetheless, she has requested your company on this.. journey of hers, and I have granted it."

All thoughts of Chasan and the other templars left his mind, and it was quite hard to hide his happiness. He was finally leaving the Tower, and with Lennith. Pulling his feelings close, he asked: "May I ask why, Knight-Commander?" Because, certainly, if he hadn't, it would seem strange.

Greagoir sighed and shook his head. "The Grey Warden continues to surprise me. Honestly, despite the fact that she is a mage, I admire her. She is young, but shows wisdom beyond her years." Again, he shook his head. "I digress... She has expressed concern for traveling alone, and not because of normal fears, but because she admitted that she was worried about the possibility of turning into an abomination."

Cullen was absolutely astounded that Greagoir, of all people, would admit such a thing about a mage. He could understand it, because who didn't admire the Grey Warden? But still, it came as a surprise, and Cullen knew he would never tell another person of the Knight-Commander's confession, for certainly, Greagoir trusted him enough to know he wouldn't. Cullen was only further surprised by Greagoir's explanation. Lennith afraid of becoming an abomination? Certainly that couldn't be true. No, he didn't believe it, and he could only assume she had used such a lie to have her way. He could pretty much imagine the pain she must have gone through to actually speak the words. Cullen's thoughts were soon interrupted by Greagoir.

"At first, I had suggested that I assign one of the older templars to accompany her, but she has told me that it appears many of the templars admire her too greatly that should the worst occur, they might not be able to complete their templar duties." Greagoir paused and sighed. "She also said that she believes you are the only templar who wouldn't.. pause if.. the time came."

And there was the look, the one that Greagoir normally reserved for mages and mages alone. Cullen knew that he wanted the truth, and he nodded. "Yes, Knight-Commander. Should the Grey Warden turn into an abomination, I shall not pause to strike her down." _Because she is my friend, and she would hate me if I didn't._

With another sigh, Greagoir rubbed his temples and murmured, "I'm getting too old for this.." He stood from his desk and nodded. "Very well. Tomorrow morning, you and the Grey Warden shall leave the Circle Tower. I suggest getting what supplies you need and being ready as soon as possible. Dismissed."

Cullen nodded before leaving Greagoir's office and returning to his room. Despite himself, he smiled and immediately began collecting what few possessions he had. It seemed things were turning out well... and he was happy about it.

* * *

Location: Lake Calenhad, Spoiled Princess docks

It had taken Cullen very little time to get his belongings together, and a few hours later, he sought Lennith out to see if there was anything else he needed to pack or get. Bright and early the next morning, the two of them left the Tower Circle with only Greagoir and Irving to see them off. The moment Cullen stepped into the waiting boat, he felt a massive weight lift off of his shoulders, and as the boat moved towards the opposite side of the lake, he looked back towards the Tower and sighed, softly yet happily. Things were going to change for him, he knew that much. What the changes would be, he had no clue, but he knew they would be for the best.

Once reaching the shore, Cullen stepped from the boat. "When you mentioned leaving the Tower, this isn't exactly what I thought you meant," he said, referring to Lennith's quest. He was quite glad that she was including him in her journey to complete her research, but for some reason, he didn't realize she had deemed it a quest. Grabbing hold of their traveling bags, four separate bags and packs that contained their goods, he watched her Mabari jump from the boat, then waited for her, slipping the straps over his shoulder with ease.

"Yes, well," Lennith started before turning to the boatman. "Thank you, Kester. I shall see you when we return."

"Take care of yourself, Grey Warden."

"As I was saying," she turned back to Cullen, her voice dropping slightly. "Weren't _you_ the one who said you wanted to protect me? So if I'm off trying to complete this quest of mine, how would you go about doing that?"

That much was certainly true, and he wasn't exactly complaining, far from it, he was more so... stating the facts and trying to get things straight in his head. The next thing Cullen knew, however, Lennith was tripping over her own two feet and falling out of the boat. He immediately stepped forward, his arms reaching out to grab her and make certain she wouldn't fall.

"See?" she laughed. "If you weren't here, I would have fallen into the water, gotten soaking wet, caught pneumonia and then possibly died. You're good at this."

Cullen sighed deeply; her reasoning was by far the strangest thing he had ever heard. Either way, their journey had barely begun, and already he was "saving her life". How many more times would that happen? "I'm going to regret saying 'yes', aren't I?" Oh, well, he had promised her he'd protect her, and protect her he would.

"Of course not. This will be fun! And it'll be good for you. When was the last time you got out of the Tower?" He had to actually think about it, because it had been so long, but before he could, she spoke up: "Exactly. Trust me."

"I already trust you too much," he grumbled, shaking his head and following her away from the lake.

She had told him that there were a few supplies that she wanted to get from the tavern at the shore, and so without question, he followed her inside and waited a few feet inside the door as she made her way over to the barkeep. He quickly glanced around the establishment, taking notice of the people drinking at various tables and the women serving drinks before his eyes fell upon a man who had gotten up from his seat and was stumbling over to Lennith. Eyes narrowing, Cullen moved from the door, his hand reaching for his sword as he watched the stranger slap Lennith's rear. Cullen was about to reach the man, but paused and watched her promptly spin around and slug the man, sending him flying. Truthfully, Cullen was impressed, and looked down at the fallen man before lifting his gaze back up to Lennith. She simply paid the barkeep, took her items and stormed out of the tavern, absolutely fuming. He couldn't blame her.

When they were a short distance from the inn, Lennith's Mabari once more following them, Cullen grinned before commenting: "I'm beginning to think I was brought along to protect everyone else from _you_, not the other way around." From what he could see, Lennith could certainly take care of herself.

Once mending her hand, she abruptly turned around, her eyes narrowed at him. "Yes, well, I don't exactly care for random strangers slapping my ass," she muttered. "I don't think I'd mind it too much if you did it though."

The comment came out of no where, and Cullen stopped in his tracks, nearly falling over, face first, into the ground. He could feel his cheeks, neck and ears turn a bright red as he imagined, for a split second, doing just that. Well, how could he not when she said such a thing so easily? Clearing his throat, he adjusted the bags at his shoulder and quickly caught up to her and the Mabari. He quickly changed the subject: "S-so, where are we heading first?"

Damned stutter....

"Redcliff first," she replied as though nothing had just happened. "It's a good place to restock, the inn is nice, and the Arl has a small library. I may not find anything of interest in any of his books, but then again, I might be lucky."

He nodded before asking: "How is your research going?" Reaching over, he took hold of the supplies that Lennith bought at the inn and added them to one of the many traveling packs he was holding at his shoulder. He hadn't even given it a second thought, really; there was no reason for her to carry anything, and it wasn't as though the packs at his shoulder were a burden. Besides, isn't that something men did?

"It's progressing, slowly, but I wasn't exactly expecting to figure anything out immediately." She peered up at him. "You know, I _can_ carry a few things."

Cullen just shrugged, not bothering to reply. He was perfectly fine with carrying everything. For a few moments, the small party walked in silence, until the Mabari broke it with a bark.

"I was thinking of something nice, you know. What do you want?" Lennith muttered to the dog. "Oh, alright," she shook her head, reaching into one of the bags on Cullen's shoulder. She took hold of a bone before pulling it out and throwing it as far into the distance as her strength would allow her. With a bark, her Mabari took off after it.

Immediately, he was curious. "What were you thinking about?" Cullen glanced down at her.

"Mm, you don't want to know."

"You said it was something nice, why wouldn't I?"

She shook her head, "I'll tell you later."

That... was not exactly what he had expected. She had never evaded his questions like that before. Cullen frowned, but shrugged. "If you wish." There was no point in pushing the matter, although for quite some time, as they continued on their way, it kept bothering him. He really wanted to know what she had been thinking of... It must have been something good, why else would she have been grinning like that? Perhaps he would ask her again in a day or so.

When night fell, Lennith quickly found a spot for them to camp, one she said she had used during her travels over a year ago. The area was fairly empty and there was a stream nearby. There weren't, however, any indications that anyone had camped there recently. Either way, the spot seemed well suited for their purpose, and once placing the traveling packs down on the ground, Cullen began rummaging through them. He quickly got a fire going, pulled their bedrolls out and gathered some food for their dinner.

"You know, you don't have to take care of everything, I can help."

Looking up to find her watching him, Cullen shrugged. "It's fine. Moving around and actually doing something is much better than standing around in an empty hallway, waiting for something to happen." And it was the truth. He liked having his hands busy, liked actually doing something. Truthfully, if he could have gotten away with it, at some point, Cullen would have probably helped the cooks back at the Tower kitchen, or possibly even help the apprentices clean things up, just for something to _do_. But, it would have looked suspicious, and people had already been looking at him strangely ever since the Uldred problem.

"Hm, I suppose that's true, but I feel bad for sitting here while you take care of everything, so!" she snagged the cooking pot he had just retrieved from their bags. "I can at least get some water." He watched her grin, then disappear to fill the pot with water. Within a few moments, she was back and had it hung on the metal hooks he had set up. "Where did you learn to start a fire?"

While cutting a carrot between his hands, he replied: "Templars are taught some survival skills during training. It's assumed that every templar would be out in the wilds, at least once, tracking down a maleficar or apostate, so we were all taught how to survive on our own." Those lessons were the ones that Cullen had loved the most; learning to get along with the things around him. He could light a fire, pick out non-poisonous berries, track various animals. It wasn't exactly much, and he was pretty certain most people could do the same, but he had loved learning it all, nonetheless.

"I hope you're not upset at me for pulling you out of the Tower like I did," Lennith spoke up after a while.

Once adding the last ingredient to the soup, Cullen shook his head and sat down on his bedroll. "No. It's been too long since I've gotten out of the Tower. It's.. nice. I've missed seeing the sky at night, out in the open." _And it's even nicer that I can act like myself and not like a templar around you. _Whether or not they had been alone at night while still at the Tower, Cullen had still acted as he had been taught to, even if every so often he stepped out of the bounds of the Chantry and his teachings.

"You're a bit of a romantic, aren't you?"

"I guess," he shrugged, bringing his gaze away from the stars and leveling it on her. "You must be as well. Why else would you have saved Ferelden, unless you always believed you could?"

"You could say that. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And it was, obviously, it was just.. It was so hard.. Being flung into the role of leader barely days after my Harrowing.. after being betrayed by my best friend.. I know everyone saw me as a strong and confident mage, and I was, to a degree, but when you're suddenly leading people in a fight against the Blight, when you have... no real idea of what you're doing or what's going to happen, when you have no one to talk to because you're the one listening to everyone else and helping everyone else... It wasn't easy, and I'm glad it's over."

"But part of your misses it," he replied, watching her. While she may not miss everything about it, he could tell she missed some of it.

Lennith chuckled. "Yes. I miss this, the camping out at night around a fire with my friends, the journeys. It's nice, at least, this part is."

They ate in silence once the food was done, and when they were finished, Cullen stood up from his spot by the fire and walked a few yards away. His plan was to stand watch for the bulk of the night, something he was certainly used to doing at the Tower. Well, it wasn't really a plan, it was just something he knew he should do once he was finished eating.

"You're not standing watch, are you?" she called out.

"That was my intention," he turned back to look at her.

Shaking her head again, she got up and joined him. "Don't. The plus about being a mage and having done all this before: I can set wards around the camp, and the moment anything gets close, I'll be alerted." Immediately, he wanted to protest. Apparently, she could tell, because she continued: "I know you and magic aren't the best of friends, but, look at it this way: you stand guard part of the night, I take the second part, neither of us gets much sleep, and the next morning, when we need our strength, we're both exhausted. I for one would rather not be ambushed and too tired to defend myself."

She was completely right, that was true, but the idea of magic wasn't exactly what he wanted to protest. He viewed himself as her bodyguard, and standing watch at night, making sure nothing came and hurt her, well, that was his duty. But seeing that she wouldn't take no for an answer, Cullen nodded. "Alright." Without another word, he returned to his bedroll. He looked up at her when she returned from setting her wards.

"And, as an extra precaution," she grinned and pointed to her Mabari, "he'll probably notice something before it hits the wards, and we'll have an even more advanced warning. Then again, the times I had camped around here before, aside from darkspawn, there was nothing of notice. And since the bulk of the darkspawn are destroyed..." she trailed off with a shrug.

"Very well," he nodded. After a second, he added: "But if you wake up to a bear eating your face, it's not my fault." Inwardly he laughed, realizing how good it felt to joke around. It felt even better when he heard her laugh, and for a split second, he felt something flutter in his stomach.

"Very well, ser Templar. Make sure you take your armor off, "I know it's impossible to sleep well in it, and if I wake up during the night, I'd like something nice to look at."

His jaw nearly dropped, and the blush from earlier returned. These... jokes, or whatever they were called, were absolutely nothing he had ever heard from her, at least, not pointed towards him, and he wasn't exactly sure how to take them. Either way, if he had responded, he knew he would be stuttering, yet again. For a few moments, he watched her, amazed at how quickly she could fall asleep, and when soft snores came from her direction, he quietly shrugged off his armor and fell asleep in the clothes he wore beneath it.


	11. Chapter 6 Lennith

_Exigo  
_Chapter Six  
Location: Redcliff Village  
POV: Lennith

As always, horses in Ferelden were quite expensive, and although Lennith had a fairly nice stash of money from the time of the Blight, certainly enough to buy two horses for herself and Cullen, she preferred to walk. As she had told Cullen, she did indeed miss some of the things about two years ago, when she and her companions traveled Ferelden on a mission to stop the Blight. Traveling by foot was one of them. Perhaps it was from all those years she had been locked away in the Tower as an apprentice. Certainly, that had been years ago, but the feeling of the intimidating dark blue walls, the way they always loomed over her when she walked the halls, was something that would never leave her. Or maybe it was just the fact that she enjoyed feeling the ground beneath her feet. Either way, she loved walking, to be free, to smell the earthy scents around her. With a horse, all she would smell was the animal.

Traveling by foot, it took them three days to make it from Kinloch Hold to Redcliff Village, traveling mostly along the Imperial Highway. At night, they would veer away from the road to make camp near the River Dane, usually in a spot that Lennith had camped at least once before. When they were too far from the river, she would find a smaller stream or pond, some cleared away area that had clean water close by. During those three days and nights, not once did they encounter any sort of wild animal or darkspawn, and aside from the times her Mabari would randomly chase a small rodent, the journey was pretty uneventful. Just like in the Tower, there was a palpable comfort between mage and templar, something normally unheard of, but, nonetheless, it was there, and she loved every minute of it.

Every so often, when that comfortable silence lay between them, Lennith would glance at Cullen from the corner of her eyes, and each time, she swore he looked different. It wasn't his clothing, although his, like hers, was slowly getting travel worn, nor was it his appearance, although the stubble at his neck and jaw was steadily growing over time. It took some time for her to figure it out, but when she did, she felt quite smug; getting him out of the Tower was, indeed, the best thing she could have done for Cullen. His lips, which had almost always curled downwards in a frown, now seemed to always curl up, as though he were almost about to smile, but not quite. His eyes, which for over a year, held a blank look, a look of sadness, of depression, of detachment, now actually shined. She could see the intelligence and quiet happiness she had once seen in him years ago when she had first found him attractive.

Those times she secreted glances at him, Lennith would sometimes let her mind wander, predominantly back to the thoughts she had first had when they left the Spoiled Princess docks behind. It was fun, really, trying to picture what Cullen looked like beneath his templar armor. It was quite possible that he was simply tall and lanky, with very little muscle, but she highly doubted it. He had, after all, swung his two handed sword with ease, and half the time he had been attacking the dummy, he had been chopping at it with the sword in one hand. The only other person she had ever seen do that was Sten. Oghren probably could have done the same, if it weren't for his height. As for Alistair, well, the one time he had tried to do it in camp, she and all the others had nearly wet themselves from laughing so hard, Morrigan included.

Once in a while, Cullen would catch her watching him, and he always asked what she was doing, or thinking when he caught the far off looks in her eyes. Always, an evil grin spread would appear her lips, and sometimes she would respond with a "nothing" while other times she would tell him the truth: that she was trying to picture him without his armor on. Just like their first day out of the Tower, he would stutter and turn red, but as days passed, and Lennith continued to poke fun at him and make a few naughty references, the stuttering and the color changing seemed to lessen. He never tried to joke along with her, but he seemed less bashful, and he at least tried to act as if her comments didn't bother him. It never would have happened if they were still in the Tower, and Lennith was beyond thankful that her plan had worked. The future, well, she had no idea about that, but as she always believed, if she was in the present, she would live it; there was no point worrying about the what ifs of the past or future.

On the third day, it was around mid-afternoon that Lennith and Cullen reached Redcliff Village. "Ugh, I can't wait to wash up and change out of these dirty robes," Lennith commented as they crossed the first bridge. Sure, they both had the chance to wash in whatever river or stream they camped by at night, but it just wasn't the same as washing up inside an actual building with warm water.

With a bark, her Mabari shot away from her, dashing across the bridge and making a beeline for the castle, barking happily all the while. "Erg, I hope he doesn't raid their food storage.. again." she muttered, watching the brown blur disappear.

"Again?" Cullen asked.

Lennith shrugged. "Yes... well, uh. When my party and I returned with the Ashes, my _faithful_ hound decided he was hungry and nearly ripped apart the kitchen and storage areas, and let's just say their cook wasn't too happy..." Cullen laughed. "Oh, I'm glad _you_ think it's funny. I had to listen to the cook's yelling for nearly ten minutes.."

The further they got into the village, the more Lennith noticed how.. crowded it was. And decorated. Wooden poles had been hammered into the ground on either side of the main path that lead down to the central area of the village, and atop each of them was a large white bow. White streamers connected each of the bows, dipping down towards the ground in the middle, before flowing back up towards the top of the next pole in line. Also at the top of every other pole was a large white candle, but with how high the sun still was, they were unlit. People were every where, standing along the path and talking in large groups, moving in and out of all the houses, and as Lennith and Cullen moved further into the village, there were more and more people to see. It was obvious to Lennith, who had visited the village on multiple occasions during the Blight, that the bulk of the people in town were from elsewhere as she hardly recognized anyone. Those she did seemed to be dressed nicer than normal.

Raising an eyebrow, Lennith murmured to Cullen, "Is it some holiday I don't know about?" Ever since she came into her powers as a young girl, she had not been the religious sort, so any sort of religious holidays that might exist were quite foreign to her. The only holidays she even knew of were the solstices and equinoxes, as she had grown up in a farming family like most other Fereldens, and since she knew approximately when they were, well, it certainly wasn't any of them.

"I don't.. think so?" Cullen muttered back, his brow furrowing.

"Well, only one way to find out," she shrugged, before leading the way down the main path and towards the Chantry. The closer they got, the harder it was to move, what with how many people were crowded around, laughing and talking.

"Grey Warden!"

Easily able to pick her title out of such a crowd, Lennith glanced around until her eyes settled upon the person who had called out to her – Arl Eamon. Touching people on the back and offering excuses and apologies, Lennith shimmied and stepped around the crowd until she could come to a stop before the Arl, Isolde, and strangely enough, Connor. Last she had heard, he had been sent to the Tower to begin his studies.

"Eamon," Lennith smiled, taking the older man's hand in hers in greeting. "Isolde, Connor," she nodded to each before turning back to Eamon. "Forgive me, but, what's going on?"

The older man frowned. "Didn't you get the invitation?"

"No," she slowly shook her head. "What invitation?"

"That's strange. I could have sworn I sent one to Soldier's Peak for you... Perhaps it was lost?"

Lennith shook her head again. "I haven't been at Soldier's Peak for months, so it might have arrived after I left..." She trailed off, still quite confused as to what exactly was going on.

"Ah! That would probably be it then! Well, Teagan will be glad to see you. He was worried you'd miss his wedding," the Arl smiled.

So that was why the village was so crowded and decorated. Although he was the Bann of Rainsfere, Teagan, like his brother, had grown up in Redcliff, until his father joined the rebellion against the Orlesians. From what Lennith knew, the bulk of his family was either in Redcliff or close by, so it made sense to her that he would choose to have his wedding in his childhood home town rather than at Rainsfere.

With a smile, she shrugged, "I probably would have. I'm only here by chance after all."

"Grey Warden! We're so glad you could come!"

Before she could explain herself, Lennith turned towards the voice addressing her and found Teagan and his bride moving towards her. It only took a few moments for her to recognize the redhead at Teagan's side. "Teagan! Bella!" she smiled, greeting each of them as they stopped before her. "Congratulations on your wedding. Forgive me for being so late, but there was a mix up with the invitations. And it's only by chance that I'm here, so, I apologize for not bringing you a gift."

Teagan waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it! We're just happy you could get here. The ceremony is over, but we were just heading up to the castle to continue celebrations. You'll join us, of course?"

Inwardly, Lennith felt her stomach flip upside down, and she wanted to groan in protest. Parties. She hated parties. Too many people, too much alcohol, too much talking, too little air to breathe. Forcing a smile that she hoped looked genuine, she nodded. "Of course. I haven't seen you or Teagan in quite some time; we have some catching up to do. But you'll excuse me first? My friend and I have been traveling for three days, and I would love to be able to wash up before I joined you all."

"Forgive me, Grey Warden," Eamon spoke up. "I had planned on saving you a room at the castle, but when we received no word about whether you would be joining us, I gave the room to one of our cousins."

"Don't worry about it, Eamon," Lennith smiled, shaking her head. "I had planned on staying at the village for a few days, at the inn, actually, so I don't mind in the least." _Besides, at this point, I'm sure the inn will be a lot more quiet than the castle. _"So, if you'll excuse me, I'll go get cleaned up and join you at the castle as soon as I can."

"Of course!" Bella spoke up. "Make sure Lloyd doesn't charge you, though, or I'll have to have a word with him."

Lennith nodded before parting from the group and leading Cullen towards the inn, once more slipping between people to make her way back onto the main path. When they were halfway towards the tavern, she sighed and let her head fall forward. "I _hate_ social occasions.."

"Really? You seemed to be enjoying yourself," Cullen chuckled.

"Don't get me wrong, I like everyone well enough, but it's just the crowds, and the loudness, and then the booze to go along with it all.." she shuddered. "I am not looking forward to it. You, however, will be lucky enough to hide in the inn the entire time." She peered up at him, "Unless you _want_ to join me, and save me from killing myself?" She added a pout for good measure. "You could be my guest. Just think of it as our first date."

Cullen laughed. "No, I think I'll hide in the inn, as you put it. Besides, I'm sure there will be enough guards at the castle to protect everyone from you."

"Thanks a lot," she muttered. Not even the slightest change of color came to his cheeks. He was getting better. The thought, however, was not enough to cheer her up. She had been to enough parties and salons and get-togethers after the Blight was ended. Most of them had been thrown in her honor, and she was happy at first, but one party, she noticed, was just like the next, and she had grown to hate them with a passion. With a sigh, Lennith continued up the path and pushed the tavern door open. It, like the rest of Redcliff, was quite busy. Maybe the inn _wouldn't_ be quieter than the castle. After slipping through groups of people, she stopped at the counter and called Lloyd over.

"Grey Warden! Come to join us in our festivities?" he called.

"Yes, I am. Do you have a room I could rent for a few days?" With how many people were crammed in the tavern room, and how loud they were, she had to yell to be heard.

"It's your lucky day, Warden! One room left! Top floor, all the way at the end of the hall! It's on the house! Plenty of profit to be found here!" he grinned, his piggish eyes gleaming.

"Thanks Lloyd!" she yelled before turning and pushing her way through to the stairs. Once she and Cullen were on the third floor, she sighed, the sound having died down tremendously. That, at least, was a relief. Sighing softly, they reached the end of the hall and Lennith pushed open the only door not locked.

The room was clean enough, but small. It had obviously been made for only one person, and thus, only had one bed. Lennith groaned, taking a few steps into the room before promptly plopping right down on the floor. "What luck.." She rubbed her face with both hands. There were so many different comments she could fling, and immediately, the Grey Warden felt them bubbling onto her tongue, trying to burst out of her mouth, but she was too annoyed and tired to even bother; she hated parties more than she enjoyed flirting with Cullen. "You can take the bed, since I doubt I'll even be getting much sleep tonight."

Placing their travel packs on the floor, Cullen glanced around the small room before shaking his head. "I'll take the floor. What sleep you do get, you'll want to be restful."

"I know I don't hear a note of _glee_ in your voice, Cullen," she grumbled.

"Of course not, Grey Warden Amell. Please, let me get some water so you may freshen up before you.. mingle." With a sweeping bow, which seemed impossible to do in the armor was wearing, Cullen grabbed the small wash basin and left the room.

"I'd throw my boot at you if it didn't take forever to take off!" she yelled after him.

With a groan, she stood up off the floor and perched on the edge of the bed. The personality Lennith knew Cullen had, that was always hiding beneath the surface, was finally coming out. He was no longer the anti-social, stickler for rules templar he had been at the Tower, and she was ecstatic about it. Perhaps tomorrow, when the festivities were done, when she didn't have to "mingle", as Cullen put it, she'd be able to coax more of the friendly, playful personality out of him. First, however, she would have to face her darkest fears.

"Your water, Grey Warden Amell," Cullen spoke as he placed the basin down on its wooden stool.

"Lennith," she stated, slipping off the bed.

"Hm?" he crouched down over their traveling bags and pulled a few things down.

"I'd prefer it if you called me Lennith, since that _is_ my name and all. Most people tend to forget that."

"Very well, Grey Warden Lennith."

She groaned, "I hate you sometimes." Turning her back to him, she washed her hands and face using the basin, then dried them off on the towel next to her. Feeling as freshened up as possible, and knowing she wouldn't be able to hide in their room all night, Lennith sighed and looked towards the door. "Time to walk to the gallows," she muttered.

"At least try to enjoy yourself," Cullen chuckled, setting his blanket out on the floor.

"Yes, well, I don't think that will be possible..."

* * *

The festivities were still going strong when Lennith left the castle, having feigned exhaustion due to her long journey to Redcliff. With the bulk of the people still at the castle, the walk back towards the inn was quiet and empty. Connor had taken a liking to her Mabari, and since the boy would often sneak him snacks, her dog stayed up at the party, leaving Amell to trek back by herself.

"Stupid, stupid Alistair," she growled, kicking a small stone harder than was really necessary.

As if the party itself wasn't bad enough, the king had of course been there as it was his uncle's wedding. The second she had seen him, Lennith did her best to mingle with as many people as possible, to avoid him. Eventually, he had gotten her alone when she was returning to the party after a trip to the washroom. The feelings he still had for her were obvious in both his voice and demeanor, and she knew that even though she had hurt him, he still wanted to find a way to be with her. As far as she was concerned, they were, and could only be, friends, and she told him as much.

"_It doesn't mean I can't hope for more..." he had muttered, watching her._

_She shook her head. "You are the King, and I am the Grey Warden. You are married, and you have a country to rule. We cannot be any more than friends, Alistair. I thought you knew that at the Landsmeet."_

"_Well, if we are friends, can't you at least stop by the palace every so often? I'm curious to know what my friend has been up to," he smiled._

"_Perhaps I.. will stop by in a few months..." And she explained to him what she was even doing in Redcliff. His reply had been so similar to Cullen's that she had winced._

"_If anyone can find a cure, you can."_

Walking up the stairs of the inn, the tavern almost completely empty at that point, she finally realized that it was the first conversation she had _ever_ had with him that he had _not_ cracked a joke. Either she had hurt him more than she realized, or the weight of being king was finally wearing on him. "No point in dwelling on it," she muttered, promptly pushing all thoughts of her first love from her mind.

As quietly as she could, as she assumed Cullen had fallen asleep, she entered their room and closed the door, locking it behind her. He had left a candle lit near the bed, and she assumed it was so she could see when she finally came to bed. Smiling, she made her way towards the bed and sat down on it. For a few minutes, she sat and watched him sleep, realizing that he had taken to taking his armor off at night, and it was the first time she had seen him without it on. And she had been right. He was quite fit; although not disgustingly muscled as some warriors tended to be, the curves of the muscles of his arms were very noticeable, and Lennith found herself pleasantly surprised.

Watching him sleep on the floor, his right arm across his chest, his left sprawled out on the floor away from him, various thoughts floated through her head. "Bad, bad Lennith," she muttered softly to herself, shaking her head as she started to peel her boots off. Sighing softly, she tried to banish the naughty thoughts by rubbing her face. It was then that she realized how tired and weary she was. And how lonely.

She dearly missed those nights she and Alistair shared a tent, how soundly she slept when his arms were wrapped around her, his soft snores in her ear. Most people were afraid to touch her, even shake her hand, because she was both a mage and a Grey Warden. Alistair had been the first who hadn't cared, and she had been surprised at how comforting another person's touch could be.

Biting her lip, she watched Cullen sleep for a few more moments before she muttered, "I'm sure I'm already going to hell.."

Without another thought, she slipped off the bed and knelt down next to him on the floor. Careful so as not to disturb him, she curled up next to him on the floor, resting her head on his outstretched arm and draped her arm over his chest, scooting up as close to him as possible. The floor was hard and cold, her bones ached, and his linen shirt tickled her arm, but he was warm, and he was close to her, and that was all she cared about.

She was exhausted, but rather than let sleep claim her, she watched him, counting his breaths. She had no idea how long she watched him, but at some point, he moved, and, fearing he was about to wake up, she tensed, holding her breath; poking fun at him, muttering innuendos and the like were one thing, but to curl up next to someone in such an intimate manner, without express permission was quite another. With a soft grunt, his head turned towards her, and she silently cursed at seeing his eyes open partway. But he didn't shove her off, didn't curse her, sputter and ask a million questions. Instead, he blinked the sleep from his eyes and watched her.

"Maybe I should have taken the bed," he mumbled quietly. Without another word, he curled the arm she was laying her head on around her and pulled her closer.

The breath she held left her lips in a rush, and once her mind registered what had happened, she started breathing normally again. Smiling, she moved her head from his arm and rested it on his chest, under his chin. The arm around her tightened again in a gentle squeeze, and she sighed happily, this time letting sleep take her.

* * *

A/N: I love fluff! Whee!


	12. Chapter 6 Cullen

_Exigo_

Chapter Six

Location: Redcliff Village

POV: Cullen

It was true, what people said; the more fun that was had, the faster time seemed to pass. Perhaps a normal person would be bored out of his mind just walking across Ferelden, from Kinloch Hold to Redcliff Village, but as he had figured out not too long ago, Cullen was far from normal. Certainly, a lot of that was due to growing up in the Circle Tower, training to be a Templar since before he could remember, but it was also due to the past two years. He watched as horror unfolded within the Circle Tower. He _lived_ that horror, for days or weeks, he still wasn't sure, but he had survived it. He had survived demons torturing him for fun, blood mages raping his mind repeatedly, forcing him to see things he didn't want to see, and things he _wanted_ to see, things he had kept in the back of his mind under mental lock and key. He had gone through insomnia, nightmares, deadly exhaustion, drug dependency (thankfully not addiction, for if he had become addicted to the lyrium, he probably wouldn't even be alive anymore). But despite all that, he was alive. He was alive and strong. And as each day passed while traveling with Lennith, he could feel himself getting stronger, mentally and emotionally.

She was right: getting out of the Tower was good for him, in more ways than he could count.

In and of itself, it was simple: walking and talking. To Cullen, it was so much more. He could feel the crunch of dirt and gravel beneath his boots, feel the lightest of breezes flit across his face, see the greenest of grass, hear the chirps and chitters of wild animals and bugs, feel the warmth of the sun on his face, smell the earth, feel the _freedom_ of it all. Sitting outside the Circle during his off time could not compare to walking freely across Ferelden. He could swear the grass was greener, the earthy smells cleaner, the sun brighter. He was beginning to see the world in a new light, and each moment he spent walking through it, he felt more and more chains of duty fall from his shoulders.

He had been caged, both by his mind and the Tower, and now that the Circle was far behind him, he finally felt as though he were free of both.

Then there was Amell. The longer he was around her, the more comfortable he felt. The blushing, the stuttering, the loss of words - all of it was disappearing. Even when she continued to toss random innuendos his way, they didn't embarrass him or cause him to stumble over his feet or words anymore. Although he didn't return the comments with any of his own, many of the ones she tossed at him made him smile inwardly.

It was obvious to him that being out of the Tower was just as good for her; her smiles, her personality, were brighter now that she was outside. He still believed that mages should remain locked within the Tower, but she was different - she was a Grey Warden, -the- Grey Warden who had ended the Blight. She was the Warden who had inadvertently pulled him out of his depression, who pulled him on a path of freedom and peace. Yes, she was most assuredly the exception to the rule.

On the third day since they had left Kinloch Hold, they entered Redcliff village. Within moments, her Mabari rushed off, barking all the while.

"Erg, I hope he doesn't raid their food storage.. again." she muttered.

"Again?" Cullen asked, watching as the dog disappeared.

Lennith shrugged. "Yes... well, uh. When my party and I returned with the Ashes, my faithful hound decided he was hungry and nearly ripped apart the kitchen and storage areas, and let's just say their cook wasn't too happy..."

Oddly enough, Cullen could picture it and laughed. He seemed to be doing that much more than ever before, and it felt good.

Lennith glared up at him. "Oh, I'm glad you think it's funny. I had to listen to the cooks yelling for nearly ten minutes.."

The further the two of them got into the village, Cullen noticed how festive it seemed - wooden poles topped with white ribbons and candles. Having never been to Redcliff himself, he wasn't entirely certain whether or not this was normal, or if there was some sort of event going on. Seeing how many people were happily milling about, chatting in groups, smiling, laughing, he assumed the latter; they were celebrating something.

"Is it some holiday I don't know about?" he heard her mumble.

"I don't.. think so?" Cullen muttered back, his brow furrowing. Part of his training as a Templar required memorizing all religious holidays, and he was almost certain that none were going on. However, it was possible there was some other event going on he didn't know about; it wasn't as though the Tower celebrated much besides religious holidays.

"Well, only one way to find out," she shrugged, before leading the way down the main path and towards the Chantry. The closer they got, the harder it was to move, what with how many people were crowded around, laughing and talking. If not for his height and her unusual hair color, he probably would have lost her in the crowd a few times.

"Grey Warden!"

Cullen followed Lennith as she made her way towards the man who had called out to her. Arl Eamon, it seemed; Cullen had never seen the man before, but he certainly knew enough about him. Rather than intrude upon them, he stood back a bit, his eyes constantly moving. He felt smothered by the crowds of people all over the place, a small tingle of anxiety building within his stomach. There was no order to the chaos around him, and it wasn't something he was used to; order ruled the Circle, and there was never -_this_- many people in one spot. Cullen found he felt very uncomfortable. The fact that many people kept looking at him didn't help. It was the armor, he assumed; there weren't any other Templars around, that he could see, so he stood out quite a bit. He didn't like that either.

"Eamon, Isolde, Connor. Forgive me, but what's going on?"

Although it was probably rude, Cullen listened to Lennith; her voice seemed to calm the growing anxiety he felt.

"Didn't you get the invitation?"

"No, what invitation?"

"That's strange. I could have sworn I sent one to Soldier's Peak for you... Perhaps it was lost?"

"I haven't been at Soldier's Peak for months, so it might have arrived after I left..."

"Ah! That would probably be it then! Well, Teagan will be glad to see you. He was worried you'd miss his wedding."

So that was the reasoning behind all the white decorations and the large number of people; a wedding for the Bann of Rainsfere - another man Cullen had not met, but knew about. Strange that such a happy occasion would make him feel so uncomfortable. Sure, he didn't exactly know anyone except for Lennith, but he assumed the happiness he could see all around him would at least calm him. It didn't. Not in the least. He found himself hoping that they would be leaving soon, or at least they would soon be heading towards a quieter area.

"I probably would have. I'm only here by chance after all."

"Grey Warden! We're so glad you could come!"

"Teagan! Bella! Congratulations on your wedding. Forgive me for being so late, but there was a mix up with the invitations. And it's only by chance that I'm here, so, I apologize for not bringing you a gift."

"Don't worry about it! We're just happy you could get here. The ceremony is over, but we were just heading up to the castle to continue celebrations. You'll join us, of course?"

And immediately, Cullen dreaded hearing an answer. The main reason he and Lennith stopped at Redcliff was so that she could use their small library. In the castle. There would certainly be a large number of people there, and all of them would be crowded into halls and rooms. At least outside the Chantry, there was air. Open, fresh air.

"Of course. I haven't seen you or Teagan in quite some time; we have some catching up to do. But you'll excuse me first? My friend and I have been traveling for three days, and I would love to be able to wash up before I joined you all."

"Forgive me, Grey Warden. I had planned on saving you a room at the castle, but when we received no word about whether you would be joining us, I gave the room to one of our cousins."

"Don't worry about it, Eamon," Lennith smiled, shaking her head. "I had planned on staying at the village for a few days, at the inn, actually, so I don't mind in the least. So, if you'll excuse me, I'll go get cleaned up and join you at the castle as soon as I can."

Cullen bit back a sigh of relief. Without a word, he followed Lennith towards what he assumed was the inn. Not only would he not be staying at the castle with an innumerable amount of people, but he would probably be able to hide in the inn for the duration of their stay. Part of him felt guilty over his wish for it to be so, but he was quickly learning that he disliked large celebrations. Or perhaps it was just the large amount of people in one place that he disliked. Yes, it was his duty to watch over Lennith and protect her from herself as well as from those around her (or protect those around her from her, as he had joked about their first day out), but what harm could come to anyone at a wedding celebration? A weak excuse, he knew, but still.. the thought of all those people was unnerving.

"I hate social occasions.." he heard her murmur.

"Really? You seemed to be enjoying yourself," Cullen chuckled. That was a lie; he really hadn't been paying attention to her while he was busy worrying about everyone else around him. And he certainly had not chuckled to cover his nervousness. No, definitely not.

"Don't get me wrong, I like everyone well enough, but it's just the crowds, and the loudness, and then the booze to go along with it all.." she shuddered. "I am not looking forward to it. You, however, will be lucky enough to hide in the inn the entire time." She peered up at him, "Unless you want to join me, and save me from killing myself?" She added a pout for good measure. "You could be my guest. Just think of it as our first date."

The bit about 'first date' was not lost on Cullen, but he was still too busy worrying about everything else that he didn't comment on it. He did, however, store it away for later usage. "No, I think I'll hide in the inn, as you put it. Besides, I'm sure there will be enough guards at the castle to protect everyone from you."

"Thanks a lot," she muttered.

Moments later, after hearing Lennith and a pig-faced man yell at each other over the ruckus of all the people in the room, the two made it to the top of the inn. Cullen silently thanked the Maker (even though he still had his doubts about Him) when he realized the top floor was much quieter than anywhere else they had been since entering the village. Even the fact that their room had only one bed didn't bother him.

"What luck.." he heard her sigh. "You can take the bed, since I doubt I'll even be getting much sleep tonight."

Placing their travel packs on the floor, Cullen glanced around the small room before shaking his head. "I'll take the floor. What sleep you do get, you'll want to be restful." He was still feeling quite guilty about hiding in the inn while she alone would return to the cacophony of people at the castle. Truthfully, it shouldn't surprise him that she disliked crowds as much as it turned out he did, but it honestly did. Either way, it only seemed fair that she get the bed.

"I know I don't hear a note of glee in your voice, Cullen," she grumbled.

"Of course not, Grey Warden Amell. Please, let me get some water so you may freshen up before you.. mingle." With a sweeping bow, Cullen grabbed the small wash basin and left the room. Again, it only seemed fair that he do her such a small favor. As for the bow and sudden use of her title? He really didn't know how else to hide his relief. It was better than stuttering.

"I'd throw my boot at you if it didn't take forever to take off!" he heard her yell after him. He chuckled before taking a deep breath and diving back into the chaos of the tavern room. He questioned a waitress on where he might get some warm water, and after following her directions and filling the basin up, he returned to their room to see her sitting on the bed.

"Your water, Grey Warden Amell," Cullen spoke as he placed the basin down on its wooden stool.

"Lennith," she stated, slipping off the bed.

"Hm?" he crouched down over their traveling bags and pulled a few things out.

"I'd prefer it if you called me Lennith, since that is my name and all. Most people tend to forget that."

"Very well, Grey Warden Lennith."

He chuckled softly when he heard her grumble, "I hate you sometimes."

While she freshened up, Cullen pulled out his bedroll and a few blankets for himself, as well as a razor, soap and a small looking glass so that he could use the water once she was done. It had been a while since he had last shaved, and the stubble growing at his neck and face was beginning to get itchy.

"Time to walk to the gallows," she muttered.

"At least try to enjoy yourself," Cullen looked up at her, setting his blanket out on the floor. He didn't exactly know what else _to _say.

"Yes, well, I don't think that will be possible..."

Once Lennith had left, Cullen shed himself of his armor and set it all over to the side of the room. For a moment, he thought about getting even more warm water so that he could take a full bath, but he immediately changed his mind, remembering that he would have to go through all those noisy people downstairs. Not wanting the water to get any colder, Cullen quickly set about washing and shaving his face, and once done, he returned all of his items to the traveling bags. Not having much else to do, he lit the candle by the bed before lying down on his bedrolls. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

He wasn't entirely certain of how long he slept, but the next thing he knew, he heard the door of the room quietly open and close. For a brief moment, he tensed, wondering if someone were trying to steal their things, but the thought quickly left his mind as the scent of lilies hit his nose. Eyes still closed, he immediately relaxed and just listened to Lennith quietly move across the room and sit on the bed. She was probably exhausted, and rather than keep her up with questions, Cullen allowed his mind to go blank so that he could fall back asleep. Before he could, though, he heard her soft voice:

"I'm sure I'm already going to hell.."

He was about to ask her what she meant by that when he heard her slip off the bed. The floor near his side moved and he could hear a faint rustle of movement. Had she just sat on the floor? The scent of lilies was stronger, and he realized she was right next to him; he could feel the warmth radiating from her body.

For the briefest of moments, he stopped breathing when he felt the tickle of her hair, the warmth of her ear against his outstretched arm and the weight of her arm over his chest. Was he dreaming? Or was she actually curled up on the floor next to him? If it was real, what prompted it? -Why- would she do that? His dream image of her, in the white dress, flashed across his mind.

Not wanting it to be a dream, but wanting to find out the truth, Cullen let his eyes open and tilted his head to look at her. When he saw that she was, in fact, curled up next to him, he started breathing again. For a few moments, he just watched her, noting how her eyes seemed widened in surprise, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. How had _those _tables turned?

Rather than ask what she was doing, or why, he simply mumbled: "Maybe I should have taken the bed." Without thought, he curled his arm around her, pulling her closer. Once she had adjusted so that her head was resting against his chest, he squeezed his arm once before falling back asleep, blissfully happy.

* * *

A/N: OSIT an update. After... more than a year. Things happened, life was hectic, so on and so forth.. For a while, I actually got tired of writing, so I wound up stopping. But, what do you know! Dragon Age 2! Which.. kinda' made me want to do an Anders x F!Hawke fic.. but then I started reading this old thing and got inspired. I don't know when updates will happen, or if they will, but.. hey, figured I'd post this. And uhh... yeah... probably won't tie any DA2 into this at -all- since I did have everything planned out, and uhh... I hadn't planned for Cullen heading to Kirkwall. _ My bad!


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